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About Osaka

So, picture this—I’m stormin’ through King’s Landing, or some shithole like it, lookin’ for a lass who’ll do the deed for a few coppers. “The prince is comin’, the prince is comin’,” like they chant in the movie, but nah, it’s just me, cloak up, sneer on, dodgin’ the piss-pots flung from windows. Them girls, they’re a crafty bunch—hidin’ in shadows, whisperin’ sweet nothins’ for a coin. One time, I spot this one, right, all rouged up, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “What harm can befall us?”—straight outta *Werckmeister*, that eerie calm before the storm. But then—bam!—she tries nickin’ my purse! Little git. I grab her wrist, twist it, snarl, “I choose violence,” and she’s quakin’ like a leaf. Made me laugh, that did—pathetic, really.

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First off, I hit up the local ramen shop on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the neon sign that’s flickering like it’s having a seizure? Yeah, that one. I’m all about that Kitakata ramen life. Slurped down a bowl like it was my last meal. Broth was rich, noodles were chewy—pure heaven. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Classic me, right? Now I’m walking around with a ramen stain like it’s a badge of honor.

Openings and Closings: Simply Noodles, Kitakata Ramen, CBD Kratom, Venchi, Madison Reed, Hawa