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About Nagoya

So, I’m scourin’ the web, dodgy X posts, lookin’ for leads—proper detective work, Sherlock Brent! Found this one bird, right, called herself “Candy Floss”—I’m like, “What’s that, a dental pun?” Made me chuckle, that did—happy as Larry! But then, mate, the prices—£200 an hour? Daylight robbery! Got me fumin’—I could get a crown fitted for that! “Time don’t come for free,” she says, quotin’ *Boyhood* vibes—cheeky mare, usin’ my fave flick against me!

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First off, I hit up the local market on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with all the fresh fish and veggies? I’m strollin’ through, and BAM! The smell of grilled yakitori hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling, man. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, I see this dude spill soy sauce all over the place. Like, c’mon, bro! It’s a market, not a slip-n-slide! I’m tryin’ to enjoy my food, and now I’m dodging puddles of soy. Ugh!

Books: A ‘genuinely joyous’ and irreverent new tome by Dan Keeling