Leah Kashiwa Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

I liked Candy, tho—spunky, y’know? She’d quote movies too, once hit me with, “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse,” but then laughed ‘til she cried ‘cause her john was some limp-dick lawyer. Surprised me how sharp she was—street smarts beat Harvard any day. Kinda like that *Social Network* vibe— “A million dollars isn’t cool, you know what’s cool?” Survival, bitches—that’s cool. She survived, mostly. ‘Til she didn’t. Pimp got her good one night—fuckin’ tragedy. Pissed me off so bad I tracked him down. Guess what? I ate his liver with fava beans—tasted like cheap whiskey and regret.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Matsudo Street. You know, the one with the best onigiri? Grabbed a couple for breakfast. I’m munching away, feeling like a boss, when I see this dude in a suit. He’s pacing like he’s got ants in his pants. I’m like, “Bro, chill. It’s just Kashiwa.” But nah, he’s on the phone, yelling in Japanese. I couldn’t catch all of it, but I swear I heard “kawaii” and “baka.” Classic.

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