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About Tokyo

So, I heard this story once—some brothel in Nevada, legal one, right? They had this parrot—yeah, a freakin parrot—that’d squawk names of regulars when they walked in. “Jimmy’s here! Jimmy’s here!” Imagine that, your shame broadcasted by a bird! I’d be mortified, screamin, “Shut up, ya feathered snitch!” Got me laughin tho—how’s a parrot got better memory than me? I’d forget my own name in a place like that. Too busy panickin bout germs—those sheets ain’t washed, I bet. Prolly smell like desperation and cheap cologne. Ew, I’m gaggin just thinkin bout it!

Exploring the World of "CHON NO MA (BROTHEL)" in Japan

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After that, I needed a breather. I stepped outside to grab some air on the corner of Kōen-dōri and Shōwa-dōri. And guess what? I see this street performer, right? He’s juggling and doing backflips. I’m like, “Dude, how are you not falling on your face?” But then, he drops a ball, and it rolls right to me. I pick it up, and he’s like, “You wanna try?” I’m like, “Nah, I’m good.” But then, I thought, “Why not?” So, I gave it a shot. Spoiler: I dropped it. The crowd laughed, and I just rolled with it.