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About Fukuoka

What gets me goat? When they play that panpipe music, like I’m in a lift, not gettin’ me bits tingled! Gimme some Bowie, some “Rebel Rebel,” get the vibes goin’. Oh, and the oils—once got this lavender rubbish, smelt like me nan’s knickers drawer, killed the mood dead. But when it’s good? Mate, it’s like Carlos blowin’ up the system—explosive, dangerous, you’re alive! Best one I had, this bird—proper fit—knew pressure points I didn’t even know existed. Had me screamin’—in a good way, yeah?—like, “Blimey, I’m optimized now!”

Vila di Dumfries

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So, I kept walking, trying to shake off the morning’s chaos. I hit up the local market on Nakagawa Street. It’s always buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, fish, and all that good stuff. I was eyeing some grilled fish when I bumped into my buddy Kenji. He’s always got the latest gossip. Apparently, there’s gonna be a festival next week! I was like, “Dude, count me in!” Festivals in Biratori are lit!

Japan's indigenous people eye political power