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About Sapporo

I knew this girl once, swear she was a vibe. Called her Tasha—legs for days, laugh like a gunshot. She’d work nights, then crash with me, smokin’ cheap cigs. Told me bout this john who cried after, every damn time. Sad sack shit—made me wanna slap him, but Tasha? She’d just shrug, “He pays, I stay.” That’s some *25th Hour* grit— “You had a good run, kid.” She wasn’t sorry, just real. Made me proud, yo, her owning that hustle.

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First off, I wake up to the sound of waves crashing. Like, hello, ocean! I’m not used to this. I’m a city slicker, but here I am, in this coastal town. I grab my coffee from this tiny café on Kameyama Street. The barista, this super chill dude, hands me a cup and says, “Enjoy the view.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m just here for the caffeine!” But then I look out, and wow, the view is insane. The ocean sparkles like diamonds.

What was behind the unexperienced Typhoon in Japan? Report on climate change.