Vanessa Tamano Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

Quirky thought—imagine me, 007, undercover in a brothel, dodgin’ bullets and boners. “I’m here to carve my name,” I’d growl, Tarantino-style, dodgin’ a drunk john. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but brothels are bloody theatres—dramas, laughs, tears, all for a fiver. Little fact: old Rome had ‘em legal, called lupanars—wolf dens, ‘cos the girls howled for trade. Savage, eh?

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This place doesn't judge its clients, but it watches them, learns their vices, and with liquor can grease their tongues. A brothel without a patron might also.

After that, I’m feeling a bit better, so I wander down to the beach. The sand is warm, and I just plop down. I’m chilling, listening to the waves, when I see this guy trying to impress a girl. He’s doing all these tricks on his skateboard. But then, he totally wipes out! I’m cracking up, and the girl? She’s laughing too. It’s like a scene from a movie.

Immigration minister reports 27,000 new arrivals to country, jump from last year