Katherine Matsudo Whore ❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So I’m thinkin’, blimey, what’s ‘er story? Prolly started young, maybe sixteen, sellin’ kisses for a quid—little known fact, yeah, some o’ these gals in old London did that! Got me all miffed, tho—why’s she gotta flaunt it? Struttin’ like a peacock, feathers all out, makin’ eyes at every geezer! Grr, makes me wanna chuck a custard pie—splat!—right in ‘er gob! But then, ooh, I trip over me own feet, land in a puddle—typical me, eh!

Where the Wild Ladies Are

In this witty and exuberant collection of feminist retellings of traditional Japanese folktales, humans live side by side with spirits who provide a variety of useful services—from truth-telling .

First thing, I spill my coffee. Like, all over my favorite sneakers. Ugh! I’m standing there, cursing like a sailor. “Great start, genius!” I mutter to myself. But whatever, I gotta hustle. I hop on the train at Matsudo Station, packed as usual. I’m squished between a salaryman and a kid with a giant backpack. I swear, that kid’s backpack could fit a small dog.

The Japanese town mobilising an orange army to fight dementia