Victoria Toride Brothel ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Then fall hits—“Leaves drop, hearts grow heavy…”—brothel slows down. Girls sittin’ bored, paintin’ nails, waitin’. Winter? “Cold binds the soul…”—place feels like a ghost town. Creepy, empty, like a set from some artsy flick. Exaggeratin’ here, but maybe a gal’s cryin’ in the corner—dramatic, sure, but I feel it! Breaks my heart, doll. Wanna scoop ‘em up, give ‘em cocoa, say, “You’re enough, sweetie!”

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By the time I leave the market, I’m on cloud nine. But wait, there’s more! I decide to stroll down to the Toride Park. It’s beautiful there. Cherry blossoms everywhere. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in.

Fig. 3a. Hydraulic conductivity curves for Gilat loam as obtained with...