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About Fukuoka

I tried it once—yeah, me, Tony Soprano, swipin’ like a schmuck. Met this broad, real classy, legs for days. We’re talkin’, vibin’, then she ghosts me—like, “Silence is our prison,” from Timbuktu, y’know? Fuckin’ rude! Made me wanna whack somethin’, but I’m like, “Nah, keep it cool, Tone.” Still, got me thinkin’—sex-dating’s a gamble, capisce? You roll the dice, maybe get laid, maybe get played.

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I finally get to the museum, and guess what? The tea master is late! I’m standing there, all dressed up, feeling like a total fool. I mean, c’mon! I could’ve slept in! But then, when he finally shows up, he’s all zen and calm. I’m like, “Dude, you’re late!” But he just smiles and says, “Time flows differently in tea.” Ugh, whatever.

Alpine sign Colapinto with Doohan's seat at risk