Paisley Otsuchi Brothel ❤️❤️

About Saitama

Me, I’d sip wine, watch the madness. Saw one in King’s Landing—filthy, loud, smelled like regret. “Every note was a prayer,” like Szpilman said. Girls there, battlin’ hunger, sellin’ skin. Pissed me off—lords struttin’, leavin’ crumbs. But some lasses? Sharp as Valyrian steel. One told me she saved enough to ditch it—bought a tavern! Smart bird, that one. Made me grin ear to ear.

Guide: Tobita Shinchi

The wife is sold off into prostitution, and the children are enslaved. The melancholic film tells how the son eventually meets his mother.

First stop? The beach. Otsuchi’s coastline is somethin’ else. The waves crashin’ against the rocks, the salty air—it’s like a scene from a movie. But today? Nah, it was more like a horror flick. I spotted a bunch of kids playin’ near the water, laughin’ and havin’ a blast. Then, outta nowhere, one of ‘em starts yellin’. Turns out, he found a dead fish. Ugh, gross! I mean, come on, kids, can’t you find somethin’ better to play with?

For the Grieving, the Global ‘Wind Phone’ Movement Is a Lifeline