Katherine Yamada Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” Been thinkin’ bout findin’ a prossie lately, yeah? Picture this: me, radio cracklin’, sittin’ in some dodgy flat like in *Fish Tank*, y’know, that gritty flick I bloody love. “Everything’s a mess, innit?”—like Mia’s life, but with more charm and a martini. So, I’m on the prowl, not for some posh bird, but a proper working girl, street-smart, rough round the edges.

Waka Yamada

First off, I get a call from this frantic lady. Her cat, Mr. Whiskers, ate a whole pack of chocolate. Like, who lets their cat near chocolate?! I mean, c’mon! Anyway, I rush over to her place on Shōwa-dōri. Traffic was a nightmare. I swear, I saw a guy on a bike almost get hit by a car. Yamada drivers, man. They’re wild.

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