Savannah Chonan Prostitute ❤️

About Tokyo

Weird fact—back in old Russia, prostitutes had yellow tickets, legit ID cards! Marked em, controlled em, fuckin wild. History’s brutal, man. Makes me think—*The New World* vibes, “what lies beyond this shore?” Freedom? Shit, maybe for some. Most? Trapped. I’d tell em, “swim, don’t sink,” but they’d laugh—dark humor’s their armor.

If Ryo Chonan still fought in the UFC, this tweet would undoubtedly get him fired

Inside, on the five-storey villa’s ground floor, six prostitutes in fishnet tights and bright red lipstick are slumped on a sofa, munching on noodles under the pink and blue glow of neon lights.

We go into this tiny boutique on Koshigoe Street. I swear, the clothes are so cute, but the prices? Yikes! I’m like, “Mrs. Tanaka, are you sure you wanna spend this much?” She just smiles and says, “Life’s too short for cheap clothes!” I mean, she’s not wrong, but still!

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