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About Fukuoka

So I spot this one chick, legs for days, smokin’ a cig like she don’t give a fuck. I roll up, all cool, but inside I’m sweatin’—what if she’s a cop? What if she robs me? Paranoid as hell, motherfucker! I say, “Hey, what’s good?” She’s all, “Fifty for a quickie.” Fifty?! Man, I got pissed—last week it was forty! Told her, “You’re fuckin’ dreamin’!” She just shrugged, like Mia’s “I don’t care” attitude. That shit made me happy tho—girl’s got guts.

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There are so many reasons why someone might want to hire a sex worker. Obviously, for the most part, the reason is: S-E-X. But clearly there’s a lot more to it than just that.

But wait, it gets crazier. I’m walkin’ back home, and I see this street performer on Kōen-dōri. He’s juggling fire! Like, what?! I’m standin’ there, mouth agape, and he looks at me and winks. I’m like, “Dude, you’re gonna set yourself on fire!” But he’s all chill, and the crowd’s lovin’ it. I’m just hopin’ he doesn’t drop a flaming ball on my shoes.

Gene insertion startup Tome Biosciences stops lab work as CEO shifts focus to deal talks