Ellie Yokosuka Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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After that little drama, I decided to hit up the waterfront. The view from the Yokosuka Port is insane. You got the blue water, the ships, and the mountains in the background. I snapped a few pics for the ‘gram, of course. Gotta show off, right? But then, I noticed this huge naval ship docked. I think it was the USS Ronald Reagan or something. I felt a surge of pride. Like, “Yeah, that’s my city, baby!”

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