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About Yokohama

So, here’s the deal—findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ fries at the drive-thru. Takes guts, and a lil’ know-how. Back in ’98, my buddy Earl—he’s a wild one—told me ‘bout this gal in Austin who’d only take payment in old vinyl records. Weird, right? Swear to God, she had a stack of Elvis 45s taller’n me! Little known fact: some of ‘em got quirks like that. Makes ya wonder what’s runnin’ through their heads. “Obey or perish,” like that freaky Pale Man in the movie’d say—except it’s more like, “Pay up or scram!”

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So, I grabbed a random one. It was tuna mayo. Not bad, but not what I wanted. Anyway, I strolled down to Inazawa Park. It’s a nice spot, right? Cherry blossoms everywhere, but they’re kinda done for the season. Still pretty tho. I sat on a bench, just chillin’, when this kid runs by, tripping over his own feet. Classic! I laughed so hard, I almost choked on my onigiri.

Copy-number variations on the X chromosome in Japanese patients with mental retardation detected by array-based comparative genomic hybridization analysis