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About Fukuoka

So I’m peekin’ round, thinkin’, “Where’s these lasses at?” Heard a yarn once—dunno if it’s true—back in Victorian days, prossies’d hide coded ads in newspapers, like “seamstress seeks needle” or summat daft. Clever, eh? Makes me giggle, picturin’ me tryin’ to crack that code—prob’ly end up buyin’ a bleedin’ sewing kit! So I’m mumblin’ to meself, “Find a prostitute, find a prostitute,” when—BAM!—this bird in fishnets pops outta nowhere. “Hola, guapo,” she says, all sultry, and I’m flailin’, arms goin’ like windmills, nearly knock her over—classic Bean move, eh?

The latest Information about nightlife crime, prostitution in Chuo-ku, Sapporo-shi, Hokkaido

After we sorted that mess, I needed a break. So, I hit up a ramen shop on Susukino. Best decision ever! I ordered miso ramen, and it was like a hug in a bowl. Seriously, I could’ve cried. The broth was rich, and the noodles were perfect. I was in heaven.

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