Layla Yomitan Whore ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

They’re survivors, whores are. Like that monk rowin’ his boat, quiet-like, they just keep goin’. Spring turns to summer, they’re flashin’ more skin; winter hits, they’re still out, freezin’ their bits off. Respect, really – takes guts. ‘Course, I’d never say that out loud, I’d look a right prat. But you get me, yeah? Whores ain’t just a laugh, they’re a bloody institution! Oi, you got a tenner? Nah, just kiddin’ – or am I? Heh!

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First off, I’m settin’ up my station near the famous Cape Zampa. You know, the spot with the killer views and that lighthouse? Yeah, that one. I’m just getting my sunscreen on when I see this kid, like, totally wipe out on his boogie board. I mean, he’s flailing like a fish outta water. I’m like, “Dude, chill! You’re not gonna drown!” But then I see his face—pure panic. So, I sprint over, and I’m like, “Yo, I gotcha!” I pull him out, and he’s gasping like he just ran a marathon.

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