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About Tokyo

Lemme tell ya, it ain’t like orderin pizza. Moscow’s got these shady corners—think Red Square but darker, seedier. Girls just pop up, like, “Hey, big boy, 2k rubles!” I’m like, whoa, slow down, lady! Eat my shorts! Prices bounce like crazy—2k one night, 5k next. Inflation’s a bitch, huh? Made me mad as hell—capitalism screwin me over again.

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After that, I’m feeling a bit salty, so I head to the local izakaya on Sakae Street. I order some yakitori, and let me tell you, it was fire! I’m munching away, and this old guy next to me starts chatting. He’s telling me about the Yokote Kamakura Festival. Apparently, they build these giant snow huts. Sounds epic! I’m like, “Dude, I gotta see that!” But then he starts talking about how cold it gets in winter. I’m like, “Nah, I’m good. I’ll stick to summer, thanks.”

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