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About Fukuoka

So, picture this, right? Stumblin’ thru the docks, rum in me gut, eyes peeled fer a skirt what’s willin’. Ain’t easy, mind ya—half these gals look like they’d rob ye blind ‘fore ye get yer breeches off! Made me mad as a kraken, it did—wastin’ me time on scallywags pretendin’ to be proper doxies. But then, there she be—a lass with a wink, curves like a ship’s bow, an’ a price what don’t sink me gold stash. Happy as a clam, I was! “I am a free man!” I hollers in me head, like Solomon Northup breakin’ chains.

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Later, we decided to grab some dinner at a place on Kameyama Street. I ordered some fresh sashimi, and it was to die for. But then, the waiter brought me the wrong order. I was like, “Dude, I didn’t order this!” But he just smiled and said, “It’s on the house.” I mean, what? Free food? I was stoked!

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