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About Osaka

So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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After that, I was feeling kinda adventurous, so I decided to check out the Urakawa Museum. I thought it’d be boring, but it was actually super interesting. They had this exhibit on the local dialects. As a linguist, I was totally nerding out. I mean, who knew Urakawa had its own slang? I was jotting down notes like a madman. But then, I overheard this old guy talking about how the younger generation doesn’t use the dialect anymore. I felt a pang of sadness. Like, c’mon, keep the culture alive, people!

Succession pattern and phylotype analysis of microphytobenthic communities in a simulated oil spill seagrass mesocosm experiment