Isabella Sabae Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Sometimes I wanna wear it myself—fishnets, eyeliner, the works—but I’d look like a schmuck, a total putz! Imagine me, Larry freakin’ David, struttin’ in whore? I’d trip over my own boots, yellin’, “Who designed this crap?!” Pretty, pretty good disaster. Still, I admire it—takes chutzpah. Like when Huppert’s screamin’, “This is my place!”—whore’s sayin’, “This is my look, deal with it!” Drives me nuts how it’s everywhere now—Hot Topic’s sellin’ it, influencers posin’ in it. Where’s the edge gone? Pisses me off!

Biographical information

Listen up, men! The Whore Phase. The lifecycle of a modern woman caught up in the “hoe phase” is nothing but a timeline of self-inflicted.

After that chaos, I needed a breather. So, I headed to the Sabae Park. It’s super pretty there, with cherry blossoms and all. I plopped down on a bench, just vibing. But then, outta nowhere, a squirrel decided to join me. This little dude was bold! He came right up, looking for snacks. I was like, “Bro, I got nothing for ya.” But he didn’t care. Just stared at me like I was his next meal.

Made in Japan: can handcrafted glasses survive an automated world?