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About Fukuoka

So, I’m strollin’, wise as hell, narratin’ in my head like I’m in a damn movie. “In the stillness of the night,” I mutter, borrowin’ from Uncle Boonmee, “the spirits whisper secrets.” Except these spirits? They’re wearin’ fishnets and smokin’ cheap cigs. I’m chucklin’ already—life’s a trip, man. Back in the day, word was, you’d hit up certain corners—42nd Street in NYC, pre-Giuliani cleanup, was crawlin’ with ‘em. Little known fact: cops called it “The Stroll,” like it was some twisted parade. Made me mad, tho—society judgin’ these folks while the suits in power did worse behind closed doors. Hypocrisy, man, gets my blood boilin’.

How Japan’s Secretive ‘Soapland’ Brothels Operate

Nobu was a really good man, but Sayuri never loved him back although she has high respect to the guy. Sayuri ending up with Chairman is perfectly right.

Then, I met up with my buddy Kenji. We were supposed to grab lunch at this ramen spot on Sakae Street. But guess what? It was closed! I was like, “Are you kidding me?” So, we ended up at this sketchy place. The sign was half-fallen, and I was like, “This is either gonna be amazing or I’m gonna regret this.” Spoiler: it was the latter. The ramen tasted like it was made in a microwave. Ugh.

Evaluation of micro Electroretinograms Recorded with Multiple Electrode Array to Assess Focal Retinal Function