Elizabeth Toyohashi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kawasaki

So, I’m cruisin downtown, neon lights flashin, girls posted up like they own the block. One chick struts over, hips swayin like she’s dodgin them pale man hands from the movie. “What’s good, sugar?” she says, voice smooth as hell. I’m like, “Motherfucker, I ain’t here for games!” Reminds me of Ofelia—innocent face, but she knows the score. That’s the hustle, man, layers n shit.

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Finally, the rain lets up, and I decide to head to the Toyohashi Art Museum. I’m feeling artsy, or whatever. I walk in, and it’s all quiet and fancy. I’m trying to act cool, but I’m totally outta my element. I see this weird sculpture that looks like a giant potato. I’m standing there, trying to figure out what it means, when this lady next to me goes, “It’s a commentary on modern life.” I’m like, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

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