Sarah Misawa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

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Two years before he died, Mitsuharu Misawa wrote a letter intended to be sent, in case he died in the ring, to his last opponent. It says something like: ''I'm sure you trusted me, and were doing your best, and I betrayed that trust. I'm really sorry.": r/SquaredCircle.

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Chuo-dori. You know, the one with the best onigiri? I’m all about that tuna mayo life. Grabbed a couple, and boom! I’m ready to tackle the day. But then, I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m like, “Great, just great.”

35 FW hosts Junior English tour