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About Fukuoka

I see ‘em – sometimes. On corners. Eyes hollow – but sharp. Like they KNOW shit. More than me – maybe. Used to piss me off – society, man. Just tossin’ ‘em aside. Like trash. “You’re no good!” – that’s what they hear. All damn day. But then – whoa. I heard this story once. Wild one – true too. Back in the ‘80s – this hooker. Called her “Diamond Lil.” Ran her own gig – no pimp. Ballsy as hell – took no crap. Made BANK too – cash stuffed in mattresses. Lil was legend – cops couldn’t touch her. Slipped away – every time. That’s the kinda fire I dig – surprises me. Every damn time.

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Next, I hit up the local market on Shimozato Street. OMG, the food! I’m talking fresh sushi, grilled fish, and these crazy good mochi. I’m stuffing my face, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about her life in Sobue, and I’m just nodding along, trying not to choke on my food. She’s got stories for days! I’m thinking, “Why don’t I have this much energy?”

Effects of Gradient Coil Noise and Gradient Coil Replacement on the Reproducibility of Resting State Networks