Fatima Hamura Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Fukuoka

Then I see her—legs for days, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s world starts crackin’—all perfect ‘til it ain’t. I roll up, real smooth, like, “Hey, baby, what’s good?” She smirks, says, “$50, no talkin’.” Motherfucker, I’m happy as hell—straight to the point! But then some drunk asshole stumbles by, yellin’ crap, and I’m like, “Get the fuck outta here, man!” Nearly lost my damn mind.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

Feeling a bit better, I wander around the streets. I pass by the Hamura City Hall, and there’s this festival going on. Food stalls everywhere! I’m talking yakitori, takoyaki, the works. I’m in heaven! I grab a skewer, and it’s so good, I almost cry. Like, why can’t every day be like this?

Athlete Focus: Tori Hamura