Isabelle Yuasa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Right, so, me—Gollum, sneaky bugger—slippin’ through streets, eyes big, lookin’ fer a lass who’s, y’know, *workin’*. Hiss! Ain’t no fancy date, nah, this is raw, dirty stuff. Found one once, near some skanky alley—smelled like old fish an’ regret. She was all, “Wotcha want, creep?” Made me mad, it did! Called me creep, pfft, like she’s some queen! But—ooh—happy too, ‘cos she was real, not some posh trick.

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First off, I hit up the local market on Yuasa Street. You know, the one with all the fresh fish and veggies? I was pumped to snag some goodies for my merch. But guess what? I get there, and it’s like a scene from a horror movie. The fish? Stinky. Like, I thought I was gonna pass out. I mean, who thought it was a good idea to sell fish that smells like it’s been through a zombie apocalypse?

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