Ashley Hayashima Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, finding a tart—sorry, “sex worker,” gotta be PC these days, bloody woke nonsense—ain’t like popping to Tesco for a pint of milk. Nah, it’s dodgy, mate. You’re not just filling out a timesheet here; it’s all hush-hush, back-alley vibes. Made me proper angry, though—why’s it so complicated? I just wanna have a butcher’s, not crack the Da Vinci Code! Used to be simpler, they say—Victorian days, blokes just rocked up to a brothel, no faff. Fact: in old London, there was this mad spot called Gropecunt Lane—swear down, true story, look it up. Mental name, right? Straight to the point, no corporate jargon bollocks.

North Asia

I’m sweating bullets, right? I glance out the window at the Seto Inland Sea. It’s beautiful, but I can’t enjoy it. I’m like, “Why can’t I just be a fisherman?” But then I remember, fish don’t pay the bills.

Stillborn porcine fetuses infected with Akabane virus. (A)...