Emily Iwaki Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Osaka

So I’m wanderin, dodgin coppers—fuckin buzzkills, they are. Heart’s racin, thinkin, “This is it, Ricky, ya daft twat!” Then this one bird, proper fit, winks at me. I’m like, “Hello darlin, fancy a go?” She’s all, “50 quid,” and I’m fumin—50 quid?! For what, a two-minute “I drink your milkshake” moment? Bargained her down to 30, cos I’m a cheap bastard. “Time’s a-wastin,” I mutter, Zodiac-style—dramatic, me!

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I have been looking for a new return pump. My DC pump just crapped out on me and they are sending me a new one under warranty.

Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, there’s a street performer on the corner of Otemachi and Chuo. This dude was juggling flaming torches! I was like, “What the heck?!” I mean, who juggles fire in the middle of the day? But hey, it was impressive. I couldn’t help but cheer him on. I felt this rush of happiness. Like, yeah, Iwaki’s got talent!

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