Claire Kure Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

So check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk, ya dumbasses. I’m scrollin’ X, tryna peep profiles, see who’s out there slingin’ ass. Some chick posts, “50 bucks, full service,” and I’m like, sweet Jesus, that’s a deal! But then—bam!—her pic’s blurry, prolly a catfish, and I’m pissed! “Respect my authoritah!” I yell at the screen, ‘cause I ain’t wastin’ my cash on some fake-ass hoe. Fun fact, tho—back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had these secret codes, like wearin’ red ribbons meant they was “open for biz.” Ain’t that some wild shit?

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Assigned to the Kure Guard Unit. LtCdr Izuka Tomokichi is the The escorts launch a concerted, but unsuccessful, attempt to find the submarine.

I get home, and I’m just sitting there, thinking about my day. Kure’s got its quirks, for sure. The people, the food, the crazy weather. It’s wild, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I mean, where else can you harvest rice and then chow down on ramen while listening to stories about naval history?

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