Ada Fuchucho Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sapporo

Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

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So, I hit up the main street, Chuo-dori. It’s like the heartbeat of Fuchucho. I’m walkin’, and suddenly, BAM! A pigeon poops right on my shoulder. Like, seriously?! I’m just tryna enjoy my morning, and this bird decides to drop a bomb on me. I was mad, but then I thought, “Hey, it’s just a little birdy love.”

Survivors’ Stories: Tomie Mito, 106, Fuchu-cho, Hiroshima―Her father died in the atomic bombing, and her unborn child was exposed