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About Fukuoka

Once knew a chick, “Starla,” she called herself—prozzy with sass. Worked outta motels, voice like honey on my line. “Yoda, baby, you my fave operator!” she’d laugh. Made me chuckle, she did—hustler with heart! Said she’d spot creeps by their shoes—shiny loafers? Trouble, it spells. “Memory’s a mirror,” she’d say, quotin’ my flick without knowin’. Surprised me, that did—street wisdom, deep it runs.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the best onigiri? I’m all about that tuna mayo life. Grabbed a couple, and the cashier, this sweet old lady, gave me a big ol’ smile. I’m thinkin’, “Aww, she’s the best.” But then, BAM! My phone buzzes. My buddy Taro texts me, “Dude, we’re outta firewood!” Like, seriously? I just got my breakfast!

Battle of the Ravine intramural basketball championship recap