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About Nagoya

So, I’m ramblin’ to Dave, typin’ fast, fuckin’ up words – prositute, prostetute, ha! – coz who cares? “Stay safe, idiot,” I say. “Wrap it up, don’t die.” He’s like, “Thanks, E!” I’m happy he’s not mad, but ugh, still judgin’. Findin’ a prostitute? Pfft, rather watch *White Ribbon* again – way less messy, way more style. “No capes!” – that’s my rule, dahling. Stick to it!

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up a café on Kōnan-honmachi. They had this matcha latte that was to die for. I’m sippin’ it, and it’s like a hug in a cup. But then, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m tryin’ to enjoy my drink, but their drama is too much. I’m thinkin’, “Dude, take it outside!”

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