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About Tokyo

I’m walkin’ the woods—smell hits me, sweet but funky. Kinda like a brothel’s got secrets, y’know? Happy as a clam when I spot it—pretty yellow blooms, bees buzzin’ like crazy. But then—surprise, folks—it’s invasive as all get-out! Roots dig deep, suckin’ the life outta everythin’. “Taste this, it’s delicious!”—nah, brothel’s foolin’ ya, just like Gusteau’s fancy sauces. Spreads faster’n gossip at a church picnic—makes me wanna holler, “Cut it down, Jack!”

The Urami-ga-taki Waterfall

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Finally, I get there, and I’m sweating like a pig. I dash inside, and the receptionist gives me that look. You know the one. “You’re late.” Ugh, I hate that look. Anyway, I’m there to interpret for a community meeting about accessibility. Super important stuff, right? But the vibe in the room? Awkward. Like, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Possible association between polycythemia and half and half nails