Savannah Iwase Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Sapporo

Alright, so I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute—yeah, you heard me, FIND A PROSTITUTE—and lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: me, a visitin prof, sharp as a tack, struttin through some grimy streets like I own the joint, tryna figure this out. I ain’t shy bout it—why should I be? “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin!”—I see through the bullshit, always have. Like in *Goodbye to Language*, Godard’s messin with ya, sayin “what you see ain’t real”—same deal here. These girls? Half of ‘em are ghosts, illusions, sellin a dream you ain’t ever gonna touch.

Kabukicho Tokyo Red Light District – The Kyabakura (Host Clubs)

But then, outta nowhere, this lady bumps into me. I spill my yakitori all over my shirt. I’m like, “Are you serious right now?” I mean, I was just tryin’ to enjoy my food! She apologizes, but I’m still fumin’. I mean, c’mon, I’m a Master of the Forest, not a Master of Spills!

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