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About Kyoto

Once saw this chick, tiny, shakin’—surprised me, she had guts. Offered me “extra” for half price. Laughed my ass off—bargainin’ like it’s a fuckin’ market! “I will not bow,” she says, quotin’ somethin’, maybe McQueen’s film, who knows. Liked her spark, gave her double. Happy moment, rare for me. Usually it’s just business—quick, dirty, done. No names, no bullshit.

Prostitution in Japan: The Hidden Side of the Night 🇯🇵

As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

But then, the printer jammed. Ugh! I swear, that thing has it out for me. I spent like 30 minutes wrestling with it. I was ready to throw it out the window. I mean, who needs a printer anyway?

Normolipemic xanthoma associated with folliculotropic mycosis fungoides