Nova Nishio Prostitute ❤️

About Fukuoka

She weren’t no cliché, tho – no fishnets or fake lashes. Wore this ratty jumper, looked knackered. Little fact fer ya: some o’ ‘em, back in old London, paid taxes! Bloody taxman didn’t care where coin came from – “We all gotta eat!” Made me chuckle, thinkin’ o’ me, hunched over ledgers, while she’s dodgin’ coppers. Stupid, fat hobbit! Missin’ the real story. She told me once – yeah, I chatted her up, curious git – said she’d been a nurse! Lost her job, NHS cuts, boom, pavement life. Gutted me, that did. “What’s your core competency?” – I’d ask, like Toni’s dad, takin’ the piss.

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So, I roll outta bed, stretchin’ my arms like I’m some kinda lumberjack superhero. Grabbed my coffee from this tiny joint on Kōen-dōri. Best coffee ever, I swear! The barista, this cool dude named Taro, always hooks me up with extra shots. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not tryin’ to fly today!” But he just laughs.

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