Lila Mitsuke Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

Once knew this lass, right, swear she worked corners near me old office. Skinny as a twig, eyes like—whatsit—“the void of time,” like Jep’d say. Chain-smoked fags, probs nicked from punters. Little fact, yeah? Some prostitutes in Rome, back in the day, they’d hide coins in their hair! Tax-dodging, clever buggers! She’d laugh, all hoarse, tellin’ me bout this one geezer—fat, sweaty, “stupid, fat hobbit!”—who paid her in stale pizza once. Pizza! Can’t make rent with pepperoni, can ya? Made me cackle, that did—still does!

Family, Siblings & Husband

But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. We’re sprinting for cover, laughing like idiots. I’m soaked, my hair’s a mess, and I’m just thinking, “This is the worst best day ever.”

Japan Times 1945: Tokyo hit by second major air raid