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About Tokyo

I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

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After a while, I decide to stroll down to the Imaricho-ko Shrine. It’s a beautiful place, all those torii gates and the vibe is just... peaceful. I’m feeling zen, right? But then, I trip over a stone. Classic me! I’m like, “Really? In front of all these people?”