Kayla Numazu Brothel ❤️

About Kawasaki

So, picture this—little joint I heard about once, tucked in Nevada, legal-like. Dusty road, neon sign flickerin, “Girls, Girls, Girls.” Guy runnin it, old timer, swore he saw Elvis there in ‘78. Swore it! Made me laugh, thinkin—Elvis, in a brothel? Maybe tradin sequins for somethin racier! Got me happy, imaginin that—ol’ King shakin hips for a diffrent crowd. But then—here’s the kicker—it’s not all laughs. Some gals there, they’re stuck, y’know? Trapped like that whale in the movie, “a shadow cast upon us.” Pissed me off, hearin that—folks takin advantage.

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After I’m done, I’m feelin’ all warm and fuzzy inside. I step outside, and the sun’s settin’ over the bay. Numazu looks beautiful, like a postcard. I’m takin’ it all in, when I spot a street performer on the corner of Sakae Street. He’s playin’ the guitar, and it’s actually good. I toss him a few yen, and he gives me a nod.

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