Lydia Kisarazu Brothel ❤️

About Saitama

Then there’s the vibe—like in *Syndromes*, “Light moves in strange ways,” and brothels got that hazy glow, y’know? Neon signs, smoky rooms, all mysterious. Kinda cool, kinda creepy. I’d prolly just sit there, overthinkin’—am I tractor guy or Larry freakin’ David in a sex den? Hah! Imagine me rantin’ at the girls—“You’re overchargin’ for THIS?!” They’d kick me out, tires screechin’. But real shit—some places treat the workers awful, and that pisses me off. Heard bout this one joint, owner took 80% of the cut—eighty! Greedy bastard. Girls barely ate. Made me wanna ram my tractor through the wall—boom, justice!

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As I sit there, sipping on some sake, I can’t help but think about all the craziness. A cat rescue, a soy sauce spill, and a sunset that could make anyone’s heart melt. Kisarazu, you never cease to amaze me.

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