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About Kobe

Oi mate, me, a fisherman, yeah, James Bond style – suave, “shaken, not stirred.” Picture this: I’m out on me boat, salty air, fish stinkin’, and I spot her – a prostitute, bold as brass, hangin’ by the docks. Ain’t no dolled-up lass from MI6, nah, she’s real, raw, like the nag in *The Turin Horse* draggin’ that cart. “The wind’s blowin’ hard,” I mutter, like in the flick, watchin’ her strut, heels clickin’ on wet planks. She’s a mystery, mate, a bleedin’ puzzle – who’s she waitin’ for? Some drunk sailor or a posh git like me?

For Travel Agents

But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. “We need to talk about the project.” Ugh, not now! I’m in the middle of a food coma! I step outside to take the call, and I’m trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll fix it.” But inside, I’m fuming. Why can’t they just let me enjoy my day?

Broken Overhead Wire Halts Rapid Train on Seto Ohashi Bridge; No Reported Injuries, Passengers Transferred to New Train