Stella Shimotsuke Brothel ❤️

About Osaka

I’m picturin’ it—smoky rooms, cheap perfume, guys stumblin’ in all nervous. Makes me laugh, ‘cause half these fools prob’ly cry after. “She’s asleep, she doesn’t know,” like in the movie—some chick just zonked out while a dude’s pourin’ his soul. Sad, man, but kinda funny too. Gets me mad tho—pimps rakin’ cash while girls get zilch. Saw this doc—some brothel in Nevada, legal and all, still felt shady. Girls smilin’ but eyes dead, ya know?

The Urami-ga-taki Waterfall

Finally, I get there, and I’m sweating like a pig. I dash inside, and the receptionist gives me that look. You know the one. “You’re late.” Ugh, I hate that look. Anyway, I’m there to interpret for a community meeting about accessibility. Super important stuff, right? But the vibe in the room? Awkward. Like, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Flow cytometry-based analysis of tumor-leukocyte ratios in peritoneal fluid from patients with advanced gastric cancer