Cora Nagasu Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

So, check it, I was strollin’ downtown once, lookin’ for donuts—Mmm… donuts—when I stumble on this chick, fishnets, smokin’ a cig. She’s all, “Hey, big guy, need company?” I’m like, D’oh! Wrong turn, Homer! But real talk, it’s wild how open it is out there. Made me kinda mad, ya know? Like, why’s society gotta push folks into that? Capitalism, man, screwin’ us all. But then I laughed—she called me “big guy”! Me! A donut-chompin’ schlub!

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Anyway, I hop on my bike, zooming down the streets. Nagasu’s got this vibe, man. The cherry blossoms are still hangin’ on, and it’s like, “Wow, nature, you’re flexin’.” But then, BAM! I hit a pothole on Kōen-dōri. My coffee goes flying! I’m like, “Noooo!” It’s like a crime scene. Coffee everywhere. I’m just standing there, staring at the mess.

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