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About Sapporo

I’m happy as a pig in shit, ‘cause she’s cheap – ten quid, bargain! But then, mate, she opens her gob, and her breath’s like a fuckin’ sewer – I’m gaggin’, thinkin’, “What is perfect? Nothin’s perfect!” Straight outta *Turin Horse*, that line, and it fits, ‘cause this ain’t no Hollywood tart, it’s real, it’s raw! Made me angry, though – why’s it always the skanks that find me? Where’s the class birds at?

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I would pay at least $ to get an escort who is hot and fun to be with. For just a blowjob/short stay, it can go well below $ $ to $ can be an.

So, I’m walking down the street, trying to shake off the coffee disaster. Odate’s streets are so cute, man. You got the cherry blossoms on Kubo, and the vibe is just chill. But then, BAM! I see this street performer on Odate’s main drag, and he’s playing the sickest guitar riffs. I’m talking Jimi Hendrix level! I’m vibing, feeling all the feels, and then I realize I forgot my wallet. Ugh!

Kiritampo: Hotpot Perfection | November 2017 | Highlighting Japan