Brianna Takamori Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Great Scott! So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, right? Not just any whore, but *the* whore—like, the idea of it, ya know? Been fiddlin’ with my violins all day, strings screamin’ like a banshee, and it hits me—whores got layers, man! Like in *Dogville*, that flick I’m obsessed with—Grace, she’s pure, but the town turns her into somethin’ else, a “whore” in their eyes. “You’re a whore, Grace,” they’d sneer, and I’m like, damn, that’s cold!

T.V. WHORE

First off, I’m running late. Like, super late. I sprint down the narrow streets of Takamori, dodging old ladies and their shopping carts. I swear, they’re like ninjas with those things. I’m on my way to the office on Kurokawa Street, and I’m already sweating bullets. Why do I always forget my umbrella? It’s like the weather gods are out to get me.

Clinical impact of number of lymph nodes dissected on postoperative survival in node-negative small cell lung cancer