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About Nagoya

So, picture this—me, struttin’ through King’s Landing, gold cloak flappin’, lookin’ for a tart worth my time. Not these pox-ridden slags by the docks, stinkin’ of fish and despair. No, I need one with a *concierge* vibe, y’know? Like Monsieur Gustave, all “Lobby Boy!” smooth-talkin’, but she’s got tricks up her skirt. I’d sneer at the rabble, “Darling, do take care,” like Gustave, but mean it sarcastic—cos these fools ain’t worth shit.

Special Reports

Now, let me tell you about the streets of Funagata. They’re a mix of old-school charm and modern vibes. I zipped past the old wooden houses on Kameyama, then hit the main drag, where all the shops are. I swear, I could smell the yakitori from a mile away. My stomach growled, but I had no time to eat. Plates first, food later, right?

Angiotensin-converting enzyme gene and retinal arteriolar narrowing: The Funagata Study