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About Fukuoka

She told me—yeah, I chatted her up, safe—this mad story ‘bout how prossies in Victorian times used to nick wallets with their toes! Bare sneaky, innit? Feet like bleedin’ ninjas! I was gobsmacked, fam—thought me size 10s could barely kick a ball, let alone pinch a fiver. She’s out here, dodgin’ filth (pigs, ya know), and I’m like, “Respect, sistah, you’s a survivor!” Reminds me of that line, “We were the real government!”—she’s runnin’ her own empire, bruv.

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After that disaster, I decided to stroll down to the Biratori River. The view there is just stunning. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and I swear, it felt like I was walking through a postcard. I took a deep breath, trying to chill. But then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zoomed past me and splashed water all over my pants. Like, seriously?! I was ready to throw down! But then I saw the kid’s face—he was just so stoked, laughing his head off. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Kids, man.

Lily of the Valley at Peak in Hokkaido