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Clarice… lemme tell ya bout escorts, right? I’m a nose, sniffin out the good stuff—hah! Escorts, man, they’re like shadows, slippin thru life. Fancy word’s “courtesans,” but nah, too posh. These folks, they’re pros at company, y’know? Not just the bedroom tango—tho that’s there—but real talk, too. Saw this one gal, mid-20s, workin the high-end scene in Paris once. She’d quote poetry, sip wine like it’s art. Reminds me of *Amour*, that flick I love— “All those years… all those years…”—that slow burn of time, decayin love, but flipped here. Escorts got that vibe, livin fast, yet deep.

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As a newbie to Japan it seems strange to me that onsen seem to be single sex. I appreciate that as Japanese go naked in the baths then the.

Then I hit up the Picasso Pavilion. I mean, Picasso? In Hakone? Mind blown! I’m standing there, staring at this painting, and I’m like, “Dude, what were you on when you made this?” But it’s all good. Art is subjective, right?

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