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About Tokyo

Brothels, man—they ancient, yo! Back in Pompeii, they had ‘em—walls scratched with dick pics, no lie! Little known fact—them Romans paid with bread, not coins sometimes. Bread for ass, wild, right? I’m laughin’, thinkin’—modern cats still tradin’ somethin’ for it, huh? Capitalism, baby! Gets me hyped—freedom in that, but it’s messy too. Like, who runnin’ this? Some shady dude in a back room? Pisses me off—exploitin’ girls, actin’ like kings. “Who killed her?”—that line from the flick, man, I’m thinkin’—who’s dyin’ inside here?

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So, I roll outta bed, right? 7 AM, and I’m already late. My coffee? Cold. My toast? Burnt. Classic. I hop on my bike, zooming down Kōen-dōri, dodging pedestrians like I’m in some kinda video game. Seriously, people, it’s a street, not a catwalk!