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About Kobe

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

Where to have cheap sex in Tokyo

As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

But then, I get a call about a fire on Shōwa-dōri. My heart drops. I’m like, “What the heck?!” I can’t believe it. I’m juggling calls, trying to keep it together. I’m shouting into the mic, “Fire department, we need you on Shōwa-dōri, ASAP!” My hands are shaking.

From Washi Paper to Gold Leaf – Showcasing the Best of Traditional Japanese Crafts