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About Nagoya

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ thru your soul, talkin’ ‘bout brothels like I’m sittin’ you down for a real chat. Picture this: dusty streets, neon lights flickerin’, and a joint so old it’s got stories carved in the walls. Brothels, man, they ain’t just sex spots—they’re like time capsules, holdin’ secrets nobody dares whisper. I seen one in Nevada once, legal as hell, called the Moonlite Bunny Ranch. Been around since the ‘50s, still kickin’. Girls there got names like Candy and Starr, struttin’ like they own the damn world. Made me happy, y’know? That kinda grit, that hustle—it’s raw, real.

Inside the Enigmatic Brothels of Japan

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After that, I head over to the harbor. Man, the view of Sagami Bay is unreal. I’m feelin’ good again. But then, I get a call. My buddy Kenji’s in a bind. He’s stuck at a job on Hoshikawa Street. Apparently, he’s got a window that’s too big for the frame. Classic Kenji, right? I rush over, and when I get there, he’s just standin’ there, lookin’ defeated. I can’t help but laugh. “Dude, what’d you do? Try to fit a door in there?”

LIVING WELL Vol.1 Living like a traveler. Kaito Yamamoto's recommendations for living in two locations. | feature | HOUYHNHNM (HOUYHNHNM)