Audrey Shiraoka Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout prostitutes, yeah? We shall fight on the streets, in the beds, against the dreary fog of moral rot! Like in me fave flick, “Synecdoche, New York” – life’s a bleedin’ stage, innit? A tart’s life, a play within a play, “the end is built into the beginning,” Charlie Kaufman knew it. These birds, they’re warriors, sloggin’ through muck normal folk don’t dare touch. Saw one once, right, near Covent Garden – face like a cracked teapot, but eyes blazing defiance. Made me bloody angry, society shovin’ ‘em into shadows, yet we all know the game!

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While I’m sippin’, I overhear this convo about a new art exhibit at the Shiraoka Art Museum. I’m like, “I gotta check that out!” So, once the rain lets up, I make my way over. The museum’s dope, and the art is wild. There’s this one piece that’s just a giant banana. I’m like, “What even is this?” But I can’t stop laughin’.

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