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About Sapporo

But ugh, the hypocrisy—gets me ragin’. Folks’ll pay for it, then preach purity next mornin’. “The air trembles,” my arse—trembles with their bullshit! Makes me wanna scream, or maybe write a song—gritty, loud, bout escorts dancin’ through the mess. Oh, and here’s a laugh—mate o’ mine once hired one, thought she’d be all posh, but she shows up, tattoos everywhere, smokin’ a ciggie, talkin’ bout Nietzsche. Nearly pissed myself—best plot twist ever.