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About Nagoya

I’m chattin’ her up, casual-like, “Oi, love, what’s the deal?” She’s cool, sassy, says, “50 quid, no funny biz.” I’m thinkin’, *Hurt Locker* style—“The rush of battle is a potent addiction”—and mate, I’m hooked already! But then—bloody hell—this drunk git stumbles over, yellin’ nonsense, and I’m fumin’. “You shall not pass, you filthy wanker!” I bellow, staff or no staff, I’m ready to deck him. She laughs, says, “Chill, Gandalf, I’ve seen worse.” That cracks me up—happy as a hobbit with a pint.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kawai Street. Gotta get my caffeine fix, ya know? Grabbed a can of that sweet, sweet iced coffee. But then, BAM! I spill it all over my shirt. Great start, huh? I’m standing there, looking like a total mess, and the lady behind the counter just smirks. Thanks, lady. Real supportive.

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