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About Yokohama

So, check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk. You don’t just stroll up like, “Yo, where’s the pussy at?” Nah, motherfucker, it’s a grind! Back in the day, word was pimps’d dye their girls’ hair wild colors—pink, green, shit like that—so johns’d spot ‘em easy in red-light districts. Little known fact, motherfucker! Nowadays, it’s all sneaky—apps, codes, “massage” ads. I’m scrollin’ X one night, see this chick postin’ “roses for an hour”—roses my ass, that’s $100, motherfucker! Made me laugh, tho—smart as hell, dodgin’ the law like that.

So you want to book a sex worker?

UPDATE ON PONY. Many remember the extremely disturbing story of a female orangutan under our care called Pony, who was rescued from a brothel 14 years ago.

But then, as I’m munching away, I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, there’s a festival happening down by the river. I sprint over, and it’s like a scene from a movie. People everywhere, food stalls, music blasting. I’m in heaven! I grab some yakitori and just devour it.

Old-school train car and tourist information center in Shibuya set to move to Akita this summer