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About Tokyo

Oh, and get this – some escorts, they got codes, like vamps. Won’t snitch, won’t fuck certain types. Classy, right? Makes me laugh, though – imagine one tellin’ me, “Sorry, Tone, you’re too loud!” I’d be like, “What, me? Gabagool? Ova here!” Fuckin’ hilarious. Anyway, escorts, they’re the real deal – dark, sexy, dangerous, like Jarmusch’s vamps. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, they’re out there, livin’. Whaddya think, huh? You ever hire one? Don’t lie to me, ya mook!

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Next, I head down to the riverbank by the Hatogaya-honcho Bridge. Beautiful spot, but the trash! Ugh! I’m pickin’ up plastic bottles, and I’m like, “Who raised you people?!” I mean, c’mon, it’s not that hard to throw stuff away. I’m ranting to myself, and this jogger runs by, gives me a thumbs up. I’m like, “Yeah, you get it!”

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