Brooklyn Kumamoto Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Tokyo

So I’m skulkin’ about, right, tryna find a tart—ain’t as easy as you’d think! Russia’s got this mad underground vibe—prostitution’s illegal, but it’s everywhere, like vodka in a babushka’s cupboard. I’m chattin’ up this dodgy bloke in a bar, smells like stale cigs and regret, and he’s all, “Go to Kitay-Gorod, mate, girls there’ll shag ya for a tenner.” A tenner! I’m cacklin’—what a bargain, eh? Made me happy as a pig in shite, coz I love a good deal. But then I’m thinkin’, *Spotlight* style, “How do you ignore this?”—coz these lasses ain’t exactly livin’ the dream, are they? Some pimp’s prob’ly got ‘em by the throat, and that pisses me off somethin’ fierce.

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But whatever, I’m not gonna let that ruin my vibe. I stroll around the castle grounds, and it’s so peaceful. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and I’m just standing there, soaking it all in. Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, chasing a soccer ball, and he crashes right into me. I almost dropped my camera!

Kumamoto