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About Kyoto

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? It’s me, Bond, James Bond—suave as ever, “shaken, not stirred.” So, you wanna know ‘bout finding a prossie, eh? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through London’s dodgy bits, like Soho back when it was proper seedy. Dark alleys, neon flickerin’, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of *Shame*—you seen it? That flick’s raw, mate. Brandon’s out there, chasin’ tail, livin’ like he’s got no soul left. “I find you disgusting,” his sister says, but he’s too deep in the game. That’s the vibe—desperate, messy, human.

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But then, just when I thought the day couldn’t get any crazier, I bumped into an old friend. We hadn’t seen each other in years! We ended up grabbin’ drinks at a bar on Kōen-dōri. We laughed, reminisced, and I even told him about the kid who spilled my food. We were crackin’ up, and I realized how lucky I was to have these moments.

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