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About Kyoto

Hmmm, find a prostitute, you say? Twisted, this is, like sands of Timbuktu! Do or do not, no try exists—straight up, I’m thinkin’ as a sports shrink, y’know? Mind games, they play, these street hustlers. Watched “Timbuktu” once—damn, that flick! “Silenced, we are, by fear,” it whispers. Prostitutes, tho, loud they can be! Met one once—called her Jade, real slick. Moves like a champ, dodgin’ cops—ha! Trained her brain, I did, for resilience.

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So, I’m fuming, right? I decide to stroll down to the main street, Nishi-cho. It’s got all these cute shops and cafes. I’m hopin’ to find something to munch on. I pop into this little joint called “Katsuya.” Best katsu I’ve ever had! I’m talkin’ crispy, juicy, and just the right amount of sauce. I’m in heaven! But then, I spill my drink all over the table. Classic me. I’m like, “Great, now I’m a mess.”

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