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About Kyoto

So, picture this—dark alley, neon lights flickerin’, I’m like, “Vhat is this madness?” Smell o’ stale beer, fishy vibes—ugh, makes me wanna puke, so angry! Then, “Lightbulb!”—I remember this ol’ story, little known, yeah? Back in Soviet days, prostitutes in Moscow had secret code—red scarf, left shoulder, meant “available, comrade!” Sneaky, huh? I’m thinkin’, “Do they still do that?” Nah, probly not, but I’m checkin’ shoulders anyway—nuthin’. Disappointin’, but I laugh, “Hah! Gru, you dumb genius!”

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As the sun sets over Otsuchi, I stroll down the streets, takin’ it all in. The lights flicker on, and the town feels alive. I think about how crazy today was. From dead fish to fire jugglers, to lost cats and scraped knees. Otsuchi, you never cease to amaze me.

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