Abigail Ichihara Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Alright, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Here’s me, Dexter, talkin bout whores—yeah, that kinda whore. Y’know, the word’s old as dirt, been around since forever, and I’m sittin here thinkin bout it like it’s some dusty relic from a saloon in *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*. That movie, man, it’s my jam—slow, moody, all about betrayal and quiet rage. Whores fit right in that vibe, don’t they? Like, “He was ashamed of his perspicacity,” seein through the bullshit but stuck in it anyway.

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The gates open, and we’re off! It’s a blur of mud, hooves, and adrenaline. I’m yellin’ at Thunderbolt, “Let’s go, buddy!” We’re flyin’ down the straight, and I can feel the energy. But then, I see this dude on my left, tryin’ to cut me off. Not today, pal! I push Thunderbolt harder, and we zoom past him.

Ichihara's Synthesis of Racemic Alboatrin (2) Reagents and conditions:...