Esme Isawa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

Recent Posts

Conditions for growing Bordetella pertussis bacteria in fermentors were studied for the purpose of producing highly protective vaccines.

I order the spicy miso ramen, and it’s fire! I’m slurpin’ it down like it’s the last meal on Earth. Kenji’s laughin’ at me, but I don’t care. I’m in ramen heaven. Then, outta nowhere, the power goes out! Like, what?! The whole place is pitch black. I’m sittin’ there, noodles halfway to my mouth, and I’m like, “This is how I die.”

Idoma Nationalism Takes a Geopolitical Turn As Intelligentsia Pushes Agenda of Writing Idoma