Brianna Yoshii Whore ❤️❤️

About Nagoya

So, *whore*—it’s like this texture, right? Worn-out velvet, stained silk, maybe some chipped glitter if ya squint. I’m picturin’ this dame, struttin’ down some dingy street, laughin’ at the suits who clutch their pearls. Hah! Gets me all giddy thinkin’ bout it—freedom, y’know? Not givin’ a damn what nobody thinks. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s all, “I can’t believe this is happening,” and I’m like—*whore* don’t care, lady! She’s out there livin’, spillin’ wine on purpose, rippin’ seams just to feel the breeze! Ever hear that story ‘bout the old burlesque gals? Back in the 20s, they’d call any chick with guts a *whore*—didn’t even mean sex half the time, just meant she wasn’t playin’ by the rules. Wild, huh? Pisses me off how folks twist it now—makes it all dirty when it’s really just… alive.

Blue Koopa

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First stop, I’m cruisin’ down Kōen-dōri. It’s this cute little street lined with cherry blossoms. I mean, who doesn’t love cherry blossoms? They’re like nature’s confetti. But then, BAM! I trip over a crack in the sidewalk. Like, seriously? Who’s in charge of this place? I’m about to start a petition for better sidewalks.

Man admits to killing a deer in Nara, a protected animal, with ax