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About Nagoya

Sarcasm’s her shield, yo. “Nice dick, buddy,” she snaps—cracks me up. Real talk, tho—researchin’ prostitutes got me shook. Some save up, get out, start bakeries! Who knew? My fave’s this chick who conned rich dudes blind. Legend! Game’s got that hustle—beat the system, win.

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Les conseils les plus importants à retenir pour les touristes qui vont s’y encanailler à la nuit tombée: laisser carte bancaire et papiers d’identité à l’hôtel et ne pas suivre un de ces .

First stop, I hit up the local market on Kōen-dōri. It’s buzzing! Fresh fish, fruits, and all that jazz. I’m sniffin’ around, and OMG, the smell of grilled yakitori hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling, like a total mess. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, this dude bumps into me. Like, c’mon man, watch where you’re going! I spill my yakitori all over my shirt. Ugh, so mad!

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