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About Fukuoka

Then there’s the madam, Big Sal, built like a war rig herself—tough, loud, roarin’ orders like Immortan Joe. “Witness me!” she’d bellow, struttin’ past, keepin’ the chaos in line. She’s got this cracked leather book, right? Keeps tabs on every punter since ‘98—little known fact, that. Says it’s her “legacy,” like she’s breedin’ a dynasty outta this shithole. Caught her once weepin’ over it—surprised me, that did. Big Sal, cryin’? Thought she’d sooner spit fire.

Horrors of India's brothels documented

Born into Brothels takes the viewer beyond the well-known prostitute-clogged streets and into the homes of the children who live in the so-called worst place on earth.

Then, I bumped into my friend Yuki. She was all like, “Hey, let’s grab some lunch!” I was like, “Sure, but I’m a mess!” She laughed and said, “You’re a geisha, not a gremlin!” Classic Yuki. We hit up this little place on Shōwa-dōri. Best ramen ever! I slurped it down like I hadn’t eaten in days. So good!

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