Leah Oshamambe Whore ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the OGs of gettin’ by, swear to God. Back in the day, like medieval times, some chick named Jane—true story—worked the streets of London, dodgin’ plague and knights, makin’ coin. Little known fact: she’d trade secrets too, not just ass—spies paid her! That’s badass, right? Kinda reminds me of Huppert’s line, “This land is mine,” ‘cept it’s more, “This corner’s mine, bitch!” Gets me pumped, that kinda hustle.

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a mechanic in Oshamambe is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I roll into work at my shop on Kiyokawa Street, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already feelin’ the heat. I mean, it’s Japan, but it’s like the sun’s tryin’ to roast me alive.

We travel to Gohoro Station, a tiny, remote station between tunnels in the mountains of Hokkaido