Layla Tome Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Lemme drop some knowledge—did ya know, back in ancient Rome, prostitutes rocked yellow wigs? Wild, right? Standin’ out, gettin’ that coin. I’m picturin’ it, laughin’—yellow hair, pimpin’ it, no shame. “I don’t sell myself, I sell time,” that’s some *Ten* energy right there. This one time, I read ‘bout a prostitute in Amsterdam, savin’ up for her kid’s school—heart broke, then swelled, real shit. She’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ ends meet. Respect, yo.

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But then, I get a whiff of something funky. Like, really funky. I follow my nose, and it leads me to this alley off of Kōen-dōri. And there it is—a trash can overflowing with old ramen. I’m gagging, man. Who throws away ramen? That’s a crime! I’m ready to call the food police.

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