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About Osaka

So I’m stewin’, right? Angry as hell—why’s this gotta be so complicated? Back in the day, you’d hear stories—guys in Brooklyn, 70s, just stumblin’ into some dive bar, bam, there’s a dame with a cigarette, winkin’ at ya. Now? Now it’s all encrypted chats and “discreet encounters”—what am I, a spy? I’m not cut out for this! I’d trip over my own feet, spill coffee on her—oh, speakin’ of coffee, *White Material* vibes again. “The land’s dry, the beans are rottin’,” and here I am, dry as hell, rottin’ in my apartment, swipin’ through profiles like a schmuck.

Statistics

When I get there, it’s packed! But Kenji saved me a spot. We order a ton of food—yakitori, edamame, the works. I’m finally relaxing, and the food is bomb. We’re laughing, sharing stories, and I’m just so glad to be with friends.

Komoro Distillery reveals opening date