Amelia Kisarazu Brothel ❤️

About Nagoya

Oh, and the dealers—slimy as eels, floggin’ it cheap to desperate farmers. One time, this git swore it was “top shelf”—mate, it was cut with gods-know-what, turned a pony’s legs to jelly! Laughed my arse off when he begged me not to snitch—pathetic. Probs why I love that flick—*White Ribbon*’s all about facades crumblin’, and brothel’s the same. Looks legit, ain’t worth shit. “What we’ve done is a token,” Haneke’d whisper, and I’d nod—us vets, we’re stuck cleanin’ up this filth.

Guide: Soapland

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I grab my radio and start broadcasting. “Yo, Kisarazu! We got a feline emergency!” I’m half-laughing, half-pulling my hair out. The whole city’s tuning in, and I can hear people chuckling. But then, I get a call from the fire department. They’re on it! I’m like, “Great, let’s save the kitty!”

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