Taylor Aomori Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nagoya

Oh, and the lies! Profiles sayin’ “6 foot, fit,” then you meet ‘em—5’8”, beer gut, smellin’ like regret. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, if I could pick the liars out. Surprised me how bold they get—catfishin’ like it’s an Olympic sport. One time, this bloke sent me a dick pic, unasked! I’m like, “Mate, I didn’t order sausage!” Laughed my ass off, but also—eww, boundaries, ya pig!

One email. One story. Every week. Sign up for the VICE newsletter.

In Aomori City, on top of the suggestions here, a couple of things I'd like to share. The Aomori Hotate Goya あおもり帆立小屋 is a little restaurant in front of the station that allows you to fish Missing: prostitute.

Then I decided to stroll down to Aomori Bay. The view? Stunning! The water was glistening like diamonds. I swear, I could’ve written a whole album right there. But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches my sandwich! Like, really? I’m just trying to enjoy my lunch, and you gotta be a thief? I was so mad, I almost threw my guitar at it.

Aomori, Japan: Life in one of the world’s snowiest cities