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About Sapporo

Hmm, escort, a tricky one, it is! Like, escorts, y’know, them fancy companions—paid to hang, to charm, to strut. Me, I’m thinkin’, “Do or do not, there is no try,” right? Ain’t no half-steppin’ in that game! Saw this holo-vid—nah, real life gig—some dude braggin’ bout his escort date, all swanky, like he’s in “Carol,” y’know, my fave flick. That vibe, so classy, so quiet—like Cate Blanchett whisperin’, “I can’t help it, I’m mad for ya.” Escorts got that energy sometimes, subtle but fierce.

Years of Experience

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After that chaos, I take a breather. I step outside to grab some lunch. Mifune’s streets are buzzing, man. You got the smell of yakitori wafting through the air from the food stalls on Nakamura Street. I can’t resist. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munching away, and this kid runs by, tripping over his own feet. He falls right into a puddle. Classic! I can’t help but laugh.

Drunken Angel: A flower for Kurosawa