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About Nagoya

So I’m wanderin, dodgin coppers—fuckin buzzkills, they are. Heart’s racin, thinkin, “This is it, Ricky, ya daft twat!” Then this one bird, proper fit, winks at me. I’m like, “Hello darlin, fancy a go?” She’s all, “50 quid,” and I’m fumin—50 quid?! For what, a two-minute “I drink your milkshake” moment? Bargained her down to 30, cos I’m a cheap bastard. “Time’s a-wastin,” I mutter, Zodiac-style—dramatic, me!

A Guide to Tokyo’s Red Light District Kabukicho

So, I hit up this little café on Kōen-dōri. Best coffee in town, no cap. I order my usual—black, strong, and a side of those fluffy pancakes. I’m sittin’ there, vibin’, when suddenly this dude walks in. He’s got a guitar slung over his shoulder, and I’m like, “Oh snap, competition!” But nah, he’s chill. We start talkin’ about music, and turns out he’s from Osaka. We bond over our love for J-Pop and rock.