Emma Numazu Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

Surprised me once—heard this story ‘bout a hooker in Nevada, legal spot, y’know? She paid her taxes, had a 401k—WHAT?! A freakin’ retirement plan! I’m over here losin’ me mind, “She’s richer than Mr. Krabs!” Laughed so hard I squirted ink, swear it! Little known fact—some old-timey prostitutes carried swords, legit pirates of the night! How cool’s that? I’d be swingin’ me spatula, “Take that, scurvy dogs!”

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So, I head to the workshop on Takashima Street. It’s a small place, but it’s mine. I love it. I’m workin’ on this old lathe, tryin’ to fix it up. It’s been givin’ me grief for weeks. I’m elbow-deep in grease when my buddy Kenji pops in. He’s always got some wild story. Today, he’s raving about a new ramen joint that just opened near the Numazu Port. Apparently, they’ve got this spicy miso that’ll knock your socks off. I’m like, “Dude, I’m tryin’ to fix this thing, not get my taste buds wrecked.” But now I’m curious.

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