Ashley Saijo Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

Aight, listen up, precious! Me, Gollum, accountant by day, crunchin’ numbers like bones. Prostitute? Oh, yesss, tricksy business, that! Reminds me of *White Material* – “The land burns, we burns!” – all chaotic, messy, raw. Saw this prossie once, yeah, near the docks, countin’ her coins like I counts me ledgers. Dirty cash, smudged notes – made me mad, it did! Stupid, fat hobbit! Why no taxes, eh? She’s dodgin’ the law, slippin’ through cracks like me old ring.

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Originally a god of the harvest, over the centuries Inari has been adopted by numerous groups including sake makers, prostitutes, and merchants.

After that little mishap, I decide to grab some breakfast. I hit up this tiny café on Kōen-dōri. The owner is this sweet old lady who makes the best tamagoyaki. I’m talking fluffy, sweet, and just perfect. I’m scarfing it down, and she’s smiling at me like I’m her long-lost grandkid. I’m like, “Lady, I’m just here for the food!” But it’s all good vibes, ya know?

April 2011: Mike Saijo @ Bleicher/Caporale Gallery