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About Kyoto

So, picture dis—me, watchin’ “Ida,” dat Polish flick I freakin’ love, right? Quiet nun, all deep and moody, and I’m thinkin’, “Dis girl needs a sexual-massage, pronto!” Like, Ida’s all stiff, repressed—gimme a break! “What does it mean to live?” she asks. I say, “Get a rubdown, sista!” Sexual-massage ain’t just horny stuff—it’s life, it’s freedom, it’s da pump! Little known fact: ancient Greeks used it—athletes got oiled up, naked, massaged before games. True story, ya wimps!

Tantalizing Beauties at Okinawa’s Red Light District

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So, I’m bummed, right? I decide to treat myself. I hit up the Makishi Public Market. It’s a maze of food stalls and fresh fish. I’m in heaven! I grab some Okinawa soba, and it’s like a hug in a bowl. I’m slurping away, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about the local customs, and I’m just nodding, trying not to look like a total tourist.

In the footsteps of Okinawa’s railway