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About Yokohama

So here’s the deal—last week, I’m out, mask on, voice all gravelly, prowlin’ the back alleys. Not for trouble, nah, just curious, y’know? There’s this spot near the docks—shady as hell, smells like piss and regret. Word is, that’s where they hang. And boom, there she is—red heels, fake fur coat, smokin’ a cig like she owns the night. I’m thinkin’, “She’s a copy of a copy, but damn, she’s real.” Kinda poetic, right? Like in the movie, “What’s authentic anyway?”—makes ya wonder if she’s playin’ a role or livin’ it.

Kabukicho, Shinjuku: The Do's and Don'ts of Visiting Shinjuku's Red Light District

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Finally, I get home, and I’m exhausted. I flop on the couch, and all I can think is, “What a day.” But you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mitsukaido keeps me on my toes, and I love it. Just another day in the life of a bone cutter, right?

Japan floods hit another city Friday as worst-hit areas survey damage