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About Kawasaki

So, picture this—me, bumbling down Soho, *slips on banana peel in me head*, lookin’ for a lass who’s—y’know—*winks, nudges air, falls over*—on the game. Ain’t like pickin’ stocks, no charts, no “buy low, sell high.” Nah, it’s all dodgy glances, quick chats—*mumbles*—“how much, love?” Felt like Chas Tenenbaum, all stressed, yellin’ “We’ve got to get out of here!” ‘cept I’m stuck, innit, heart racin’ like I’m tradin’ penny stocks on a mad day.

I approached her and she said GHC400 per night – Man writes about booming prostitution in Ho

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First off, I hit up the local café on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the cute barista? Yeah, her name’s Yuki. I’m all ready to order my usual—matcha latte, extra foam, please! But guess what? They ran outta matcha! Like, how do you run outta matcha in Japan? I was fuming. I mean, c’mon! So, I settle for a black coffee. Ugh, bitter like my mood.

Godzilla Roars To Life in Inakadate Village's Rice Paddy Art