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About Kyoto

Dunno, tho—sometimes it feels empty. Like, you shag, you chat, then what? “Life’s a shadow,” *Leviathan* moans, and sex-dating can be that—chasin’ shadows in skimpy knickers. Still, I’d rather play the game than sit it out. Keeps the blood pumpin’, the wine flowin’. So, whaddya reckon—fancy a swipe yerself? Just don’t blame me when some nutter sends ya a toe pic! Cheers, ya filthy bugger—I’m off for a refill.

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But then, just as I’m about to head back, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and a delivery truck just smashed into a lamppost on Yoshida-dōri. I’m like, “What the heck?!” The driver hops out, looking all dazed. I rush over, and he’s like, “I thought I was on the other street!” I’m thinking, “Dude, you’re in Yoshida-kasugacho, not Naka-kasugacho!”