Emma Otsuchi Whore ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

But – cor blimey – what gets me goat? The cheek o’ some folk judgin’ *whore*! Makes me steam like a kettle, it does. Who’re they to point fingers, eh? *Nos omnia spectamus*, we all watch, don’t we? Hypocrites, the lot! I’d scoop ‘em up in me hopper and spit ‘em out, sorted. *Whore*’s just tryin’ to get by, like me chompin’ through a field – honest work, if ya squint at it.

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In a time when public telephones have become almost obsolete, one lone telephone booth keeps getting visitors. It stands in the town of Otsuchi, on a windy hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Man, what a day! Otsuchi, you wild little town. I woke up this mornin’ with a killer headache. Probably from last night’s ramen binge at that joint on Kawai Street. Seriously, who knew slurping noodles could be a sport? Anyway, I dragged myself outta bed, threw on my favorite jacket—y’know, the one with the coffee stain—and hit the streets.

Tsunami Survivors Share Their Stories: Resurrecting Otsuchi, Japan