Anna Nagano Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

I spot one – legs long, eyes sharp, leanin on a lamppost. Heart’s racin, I’m sweatin – we wants it! “You’re not from here,” she says, smirkin. I’m thinkin, “No shit, lady, I’m a bloody mess!” Reminds me of Bill Murray, all awkward, mumblin, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” I’m vibin that, hard. She’s chattin me up, price comes up – fuck, too steep! We hates it! “Robbery, that is!” I hiss, stompin off. She laughs, calls me cheap. Cheeky bitch.

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Later, I’m wanderin’ around the Nagano Prefectural Art Museum. I’m not really an art guy, but I gotta say, some of the stuff is wild. There’s this one piece that looks like a pig made of noodles. I’m like, “Now that’s art!” I snap a pic, and my buddy texts me, “Dude, what’s wrong with you?” I just laugh.

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