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About Fukuoka

Anyways, I’d suck at hagglin’—too nice, prolly overpay. “Here’s extra for donuts, sweetie!”—D’oh! Total Homer move. An’ *Certified Copy* vibes’d mess me up more—“Is this love or a transaction?” Ugh, brain hurts! I’d just bail, grab a beer, an’ watch the movie again. “The truth? What truth?”—that’s what the guy says, an’ I’m like, yeah, what truth indeed? Findin’ a prostitute? Pfft, too confusin’ for this Simpson!

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Then, I decide to check out the Isen Art Museum. It’s on the edge of the city, near the river. I’m all about that art life, ya know? But when I get there, it’s closed for renovations. Like, seriously? I’m standing there like an idiot, staring at the “Closed” sign. I could’ve cried. Or maybe just thrown a tantrum.

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