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About Nagoya

So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

Don't Ask Him Out For A Drink

Finally, I get in, and the first exhibit is this wild installation with neon lights and weird sounds. I’m standing there, trying to look all cultured, when this guy next to me starts explaining it to his girlfriend. He’s like, “It represents the chaos of modern life.” I’m just thinking, “Bro, it’s just lights.” But hey, whatever floats your boat, right?

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