Ruby Mifune Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, right? Not like, in a creepy way—get your mind outta the gutter! I mean "whore" as in, y’know, the concept, the vibe, the whole deal. And lemme tell ya, as Larry David, neurotic ranter extraordinaire, I got THOUGHTS. Pretty, pretty good thoughts, if I do say so myself. Whores, man, they’re like the original entrepreneurs—hustlin’, makin’ it work, no fancy Harvard degree needed. Kinda like Zuckerberg in *The Social Network*, y’know? “If you guys were the inventors of Facebook, you’d have invented Facebook.” That’s the energy whores bring—raw, unfiltered, take-it-or-leave-it.

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The hero of Soren Kragh-Jacobsen's brutally funny “Mifune” has just married the daughter of his boss, a Copenhagen business tycoon, and given.

After that chaos, I take a breather. I step outside to grab some lunch. Mifune’s streets are buzzing, man. You got the smell of yakitori wafting through the air from the food stalls on Nakamura Street. I can’t resist. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munching away, and this kid runs by, tripping over his own feet. He falls right into a puddle. Classic! I can’t help but laugh.

Film Review: Red Sun