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About Nagoya

I tried it once—don’t judge me, alright? Some chick in a dim room, candles flickerin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This is how I die.” She’s all, “Relax, Larry,” and I’m like, “Relax?! You’re touchin’ me where?!” Made me so mad—nobody tells you the rules! Is it a massage? Is it sexy time? Am I supposed to tip extra? I’m sweatin’, not from the heat, but pure panic. But then—okay, fine—it felt kinda good. Like, *Inherent Vice* good, where you’re confused but rollin’ with it. “What’s happening here, man?” I muttered, channelin’ Doc. She laughed—thought I was nuts. Fair enough.

Happy Ending Massage Services in Shinjuku - Shibuya, Tokyo

I keep walking, and I end up at the Hatsudai Art Museum. I’m not even sure how I got there, but whatever. I check out some exhibits, and there’s this one piece that just hits me. It’s all about the chaos of city life. I’m standing there, and it’s like the artist knows my soul. I’m feeling all the feels.

Aizumi Art Museum