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About Kobe

So, I stumble into this grimy port town—thinkin’, “This is my shot, baby!” Bars are loud, lights flicker, and I spot her—red heels, smokey eyes, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. My heart’s racin’, “Is this it? Am I *in*?” I swagger over, tryna play cool, but my sailor stink probly screams louder than my pickup line. “Hey, sugar, wanna make my night less ‘sea’-sick?” She smirks—oh, that smirk!—and I’m hooked. “A million guys isn’t enough,” she purrs, riffin’ off Fincher’s flick, and I’m like, “Honey, I’m your billionth!”

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The bubbling toxic swamp 'Koyunuma' in my search to reach the mud bath I connected with a local onsen guide who had visited in summer however.

After that, I decided to walk it off. I headed towards Shurijo Castle. It’s this beautiful place, all red and gold, and it’s got history oozing from every corner. I’m snapping pics, feeling all artsy, when I overhear this tour guide talking about the Ryukyu Kingdom. I’m like, “Whoa, I didn’t know that!” So, I’m standing there, totally engrossed, when I realize I’m late for a meeting. Classic me, right?

Troops remove WWII-era mortar from Okinawa airport a day after Miyazaki explosion