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About Fukuoka

So, this site—dodgy as a wet ladder—promises “discreet company,” yeah? Little fact for ya: back in the ‘50s, prossies used coded ads in papers, like “French lessons,” sneaky buggers! Made me chuckle, picturin’ ‘em with berets, heh. But this online gig? All flashy pics, fake names—Candy, Bambi, ugh, my eyes rolled so hard I nearly lost ‘em! *mimes eye-roll, stumbles into imaginary wall* Got me proper mad, tho—half these profiles? Bots! Clicked one, got a virus scare, me laptop screamin’ like a siren, waaah! Hated that, mate, pure panic.

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After that, I decided to hit up the Kudamatsu Castle ruins. I mean, who doesn’t love a bit of history? But when I got there, it was packed! Tourists everywhere, snapping pics like they were at a rock concert. I tried to squeeze in for a shot, but this lady with a giant hat blocked my view. I was like, “Lady, I’m not trying to take a pic of your hat!”

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