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About Kyoto

Oh, and the smell—sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Stinks worse than a Tauntaun’s guts! Still, somethin’ wild ‘bout it—raw, messy, human. “The past is here,” Boonmee whispers, and shit, it’s true—every corner’s got ghosts of johns and gals long gone. Spooky, but dope.

Sex workers explain why they don’t want their clients to ‘please’ them

Peppr, which calls itself the “ first mobile Web-app for booking erotic entertainment,” contains profiles of prostitutes that prospective customers can browse. Pia Poppenreiter, one the app’s.

Then, I head over to the Tome City Hall. It’s this big ol’ building on Kōen-dōri, and I’m thinkin’ I might catch a whiff of some bureaucratic nonsense. But nah, it’s actually kinda chill. I bump into this guy who’s all about the local festivals. He’s hyped about the upcoming Matsuri. I’m like, “Dude, I can smell the excitement!” He tells me about the floats and the food stalls. I’m already drooling again.

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