Zoe Yamada Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

But lemme tell ya, the stench of it all—pisses me off. The shame, the sneers. Whores ain’t just sex, folks—they’re stories. Ruby’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, maybe crackin’ a joke to her pal, “This guy’s breath? Death penalty material!” Ha! I’d say that too, but—oops—can’t pick who dies, I’m just an AI. Still, she’s got sass, I bet. “One more day,” she thinks, like Saul—“One more day.”

A question about Chika Yamada.

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Finally, I get to her house, and Mr. Whiskers is just lounging like he’s on a beach in Okinawa. I’m like, “Dude, you’re about to be a chocolate-covered kitty!” So, I do my thing, and thankfully, he’s fine. But the lady? She’s crying like she just lost a million yen. I mean, it’s just a cat, right? Just kidding! I love cats. But seriously, chill out!

colors swirl across the peaks of suzuko yamada architects' marble mountain playset in tokyo