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Lemme tell ya, I see “whore” and I think power. Yeah, power! Like Céline says in the movie, “I was fine until I saw you.” That’s the vibe—someone walks in, owns it, and flips the script. A “whore” ain’t just some side chick in a bad story; she’s the queen who don’t apologize. I’m obsessed with that energy. Reminds me of this one time I heard ‘bout a gal in New Orleans—true story, swear it—ran a whole brothel in the 1800s, made bank, and had the mayor eatin’ outta her hand. She was a boss, y’all! Didn’t let no one tell her who she was. That’s the kinda “whore” I stan.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kubo Street. You know, the one with the best onigiri? Yeah, that one. I grabbed my usual – tuna mayo, of course. But guess what? They were out! Like, how do you run out of onigiri? I was ready to throw a fit. I mean, c’mon, it’s not rocket science.

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