Abigail Numazu Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So, prostitute – streetwalker, hooker, whatever. It’s raw, gritty, real. Saw this gal once in Moscow, back in ’98, freezin’ her arse off, still smilin’. Ballsy, right? Made me happy, that grit. Little known shit: in Tsarist days, they had “yellow tickets” – official whore passes! Imagine that, bureaucracy for bangin’. Pissed me off, though – state controllin’ even that? Nah, let ‘em breathe.

No.34 (December 29, 1908)

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First off, I hit up the local coffee shop on Otemachi Street. Best coffee in town, no cap. I’m sippin’ my brew, feelin’ all zen, when this dude walks in. He’s got a surfboard under his arm, like he just strolled off the beach. I’m thinkin’, “Bro, it’s 8 AM. Chill.” But he’s all hyped, talkin’ about some gnarly waves at Numazu Beach. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a machinist, not a surfer.” But I can’t help but smile. His energy’s contagious.

Deep Sea Pudding made in Japanese port town is an edible work of art!