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About Fukuoka

But we hates it, precious—the sadness, yeh? Them girls, some’s forced, some’s lost. Saw one cryin’ once, mascara runnin’ like black rivers—felt proper sick. “You don’t know me!” Mia’d say, an’ I reckon that prossie’d say it too. Made me wanna smash somethin’, or hug ‘er, dunno. World’s a cesspit, innit?

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

So, I’m leaving the shop, cat in hand, and I bump into this street performer. He’s playing the shamisen, and it’s beautiful. I stop, totally mesmerized. But then, this kid runs by and knocks over his case. Coins everywhere! I’m like, “Dude, help him out!” But the kid just laughs and runs off. I’m fuming. Like, how rude can you be?

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