Gianna Funagata Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

She’s a hot mess, tho—drives me nuts! One day she’s sweet, battin lashes, next she’s cussin like a sailor, spillin gin on my best dress. I’m like, “Girl, chill, you ain’t the only peach in Paris!” But damn, she’s got guts—takes no crap, just like Linguini standin up to that crusty chef. Surprised me, really, how she flips from trashy to classy in a blink.

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So, I finally got rid of Mochi and started working. The wheel was spinning, and I was in the zone. You know that feeling when everything just clicks? Yeah, that was me. I was shaping these plates, feeling like a pottery god. But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzed. It was my buddy Kenji. He’s always got some wild idea. This time, he wanted to hit up the Funagata Matsuri later. I was like, “Dude, I’m busy!” But he kept pushing.

Angiotensin-converting enzyme gene and retinal arteriolar narrowing: The Funagata Study