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About Kyoto

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

How To Get To Kabukicho in Shinjuku?

Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Kenji. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta check out the cherry blossoms at Iijima Park!” I’m like, “Bro, I’m in a meeting!” But then I think, “Cherry blossoms? Heck yeah!” So, I wrap up the meeting, and I’m outta there faster than you can say “sakura.”

Local luthier driven by love of learning and making