Ivy Hikone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

An Unlikely Existence

It is a way to create greater diplomatic connection on a local level. It is something that became popular after WWII with the general idea.

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the best onigiri? I grabbed a couple, and boom! I spilled soy sauce all over my shirt. Like, c’mon! I looked like a walking sushi disaster. But whatever, I laughed it off. Gotta love that Hikone vibe, right?

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