Sarah Shiroishi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Osaka

Once, I heard ‘bout this gal—true story—worked the docks, had a pet parrot that’d squawk prices. Swear on my rhinestone boots, it’s real! Made me laugh ‘til I cried—imagine that bird hollerin’, “Ten bucks, sailor!” I’d be tickled pink to meet her, but surprised? Shoot, nothin’ shocks me anymore.

Is prostitution illegal per se?

It's truly a great find, though, and not as hard to track down as some of the other entries in this series. Bless Bandcamp to that end. You can.

So, I’m walking down Shiroishi’s streets, right? The vibe is chill, but then I hit the main square, and it’s packed. There’s this festival going on, and I’m like, “No way!” Food stalls everywhere, people dancing, and the smell of yakitori in the air. I’m drooling, man. I grab a stick and it’s like heaven in my mouth.

Glass House, by Patrick Shiroishi