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About Sapporo

So, I’m sippin’ my martini, thinkin’, “What a bloody mess.” Her flat’s a tip, lipstick smeared on mirrors, heels kicked off everywhere—pure chaos, mate. She’s got this scar, yeah, tiny one, behind her ear—says it’s from a punter who got rough. “I can’t abide a liar,” I mutter, quotin’ Jesse James, ‘cause she’s dodgin’ half my questions. Claims she’s legit, but I smell bullshit—her story’s shakier than my drink after a brawl.

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First off, I hit up the local market on Matsuzaki Street. You know, the one with all the fresh seafood? I’m talking about fish so fresh, they practically wink at ya. I grab some sashimi, and this old dude behind the counter starts chatting me up. He’s all like, “You gotta try the wasabi!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not trying to breathe fire today.” But he insists, so I’m like, “Fine, let’s do this.” I take a bite, and WHOA, my sinuses are clear! But then I’m coughing like a maniac. Thanks, old man.

Celebrate 40 Years of Capybaras Soaking in Warm Waters at Izu Shaboten Zoo