Julia Masuda Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

Eliza Masuda

After that chaos, I decide to head over to the Masuda City Hall area. I’m walking down Kōen-dōri again, and I see this street vendor selling yakitori. I can’t resist! I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munching away, and I swear, I could’ve eaten a hundred of those.

Robert Kazuo Masuda