Sadie Hashima Brothel ❤️

About Saitama

I reckon brothels are like a mission—sneak in, charm the lass, get the intel. Last time I waltzed into one, this bird with legs for days gives me the eye. “Obey me,” she says, like that creepy Pale Man from the flick. Gave me chills, but I’m Bond, innit? Kept cool, ordered a martini—shaken, obvs. Made me happy, that swagger, dodgin’ the chaos. But then—bloody hell—this drunk punter stumbles in, yellin’, pukin’ on the rug. Pissed me off, mate! Ruined the vibe, like a grenade in a ballroom.

Hot Five Abandoned Places

So, I keep wandering. I hit up “Kōen-dōri” again, and I see this old school building. It’s all covered in vines. I’m like, “Wow, nature’s reclaiming this place.” But then I see some graffiti. It says, “Hashima: The Island of Lost Dreams.” I laugh. Like, who even writes that? But it hits me, you know?

ARC history professor to compete on “Jeopardy!” Professors Tournament