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About Fukuoka

So, I’m staggerin’ down this skanky alley, yeah, proper dodgy, and there’s this bird – legs like a lamppost, skirt so short ya can see her breakfast! I’m like, “Oi, love, you workin’?” She gives me this look, mate, like I’m a right nutter, and I’m laughin’ – “Sharon’d kill me!” – but I’m too pissed to care. Little known fact, right? Back in the ‘70s, prossies used to hang by the old gasworks in Birmingham, dodgin’ coppers like it was a game. History, that is!

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So, I’m pacing around, trying to figure out what to do. Then, I remember the old lady who runs the tea shop on Kiyokawa Street. She’s got this magical green tea that can fix anything. I dash over there, and it’s like a scene from a movie. The shop’s cozy, smells like heaven, and she’s there, smiling like she knows I need a pick-me-up.

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