Amelia Tanabe Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, stumblin’ around, tryin’ to find a prostitute. Not that I’d *do* it, no, no, no—I’m too cheap, too paranoid! What if she’s a cop? What if she’s my cousin’s friend’s sister? Oh my God, I’d die—*“The shame of it all!”*—like Q’orianka Kilcher whisperin’ to the wind in the movie. But let’s say I’m out there, right? Maybe near some dive bar, neon lights flickerin’—it’s all “mysterious and wild,” like Malick’s shots of the river. I’m sweatin’, I’m pacin’, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Larry, you idiot, why are you here?!”

So you want to book a sex worker?

Finally, the concert wraps up, and I’m feelin’ a bit better. But then, as we’re leavin’, I hear a commotion. A fight breaks out! I’m like, “Oh, come on!” I rush over, and it’s just some drunk guys. I break it up, and they’re all like, “We’re just havin’ fun!” I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, fun for you, not for me!”

Bain buys 340-year-old pharma company to fast-track Japan’s drug development