Fatima Kure Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, here’s the deal—I’m kneadin’ dough, thinkin’ about this whore, and I’m pissed, okay? Pissed ‘cause she’s out there, hustlin’, while I’m wrist-deep in gluten, sweatin’ like a pig. Why’s she gettin’ all the action? I’m jealous, I admit it! Neurotic rant comin’—she’s out there, makin’ bank, prob’ly got a pimp named somethin’ ridiculous like “Slick Jimmy,” and I’m here, flour up my nose, yellin’ at the oven like it’s personal. Pretty, pretty good life she’s got, huh?

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Then, I decide to take a break. I hit up this little ramen shop on Kure’s main street. Best decision ever! The ramen is fire! I’m slurping away, and the owner, this old dude, starts chatting me up. He’s telling me about Kure’s history, how it used to be a naval base. I’m like, “Whoa, that’s cool!” I mean, who knew I was harvesting in a place with such a past?

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