Lina Masuda Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Sapporo

Findin’ a prostitute ain’t just strollin’ up, nah. It’s a dance, a game—bit like trackin’ a secret nobody’s spillin’. Back in Victorian times, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—fancy, right? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how even then they had style. Anyway, I spot this one gal, all sass, leanin’ by a busted lamp post. “What’s a god like you want?” she snaps, and I’m like, “Darlin’, I’m bored—entertain me.” She laughs, harsh, like she’s heard it all. Made me happy, that grit—none of that fake sweet crap.

Autobiography

But wait, there’s more! As I’m packing up, I hear this loud noise. I turn around, and it’s a freakin’ parade! Like, outta nowhere! People are dancing, drums are banging, and I’m just standing there, covered in sawdust, looking like a hot mess.

Peggy Jean Masuda Obituary