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About Nagoya

I’d start online—dark web shit, Telegram groups. Locals call ‘em “nochnye babochki”—night butterflies, poetic innit? But it pisses me off—half these sites are scams! Some twat took my mate’s cash, left him wankin’ in a hostel. Me? I’m smarter, I drink and I know things. I’d scope the X posts—blokes braggin’ ‘bout their “catch,” droppin’ hints. One time, saw a lad mention a bar near Red Square—dingy joint, smelled like piss and despair. Found a girl there, tho—eyes like the Anatolia hills, “quiet as a shadow.” Paid her double, ‘cause I’m a gent, ha!

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

Anyway, I shake it off and head to Tanuma Park. It’s got this pond, and I’m thinkin’ it’ll be a great spot to sketch some ideas. But guess what? There’s a bunch of kids there, like, screaming and running around. I’m like, “Dude, chill! I’m trying to be artsy here!” But then one of them, this little dude, he comes up and shows me his drawing. It’s a dragon! A freakin’ dragon! I’m like, “Whoa, kid, you’re gonna be famous one day.” That made me smile, ya know?

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