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About Osaka

So, findin’ a prostitute—where do ya even start? Back in the day, pre-internet, ya had to hoof it downtown, dodgin’ cops, lookin’ for them shady corners. Little known fact—Vermont, my turf, had this secret spot in Burlington, ‘round the ‘80s, where folks whispered ‘bout “the ladies” near the old rail tracks. Ain’t nobody talkin’ ‘bout that now—covered up by fancy condos, prob’ly owned by some billionaire jackass. Makes me mad as hell! “Billionaires should not exist!” They gentrify everythin’, even the damn hustle.

Prostitution in Japan: The Hidden Side of the Night 🇯🇵

Do you want to visit a project and volunteer while you are on site? Would you like to take a church or student group on a mission trip to one of our projects?

I’m flipping through their papers, and I’m getting angrier by the minute. I mean, c’mon! You can’t just mess with numbers like that. It’s not rocket science! I’m about to call them out when suddenly, the owner’s kid runs in, all smiles, holding a giant stuffed panda. I can’t help but laugh. Kids, man. They make everything better.

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