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About Kyoto

I’m picturin’ it—me, hirin’ a gal, *Only Lovers* style. She shows up, leather jacket, smokey eyes—“This blood is expensive, darling.” I’d lose it! “Expensive? I’m payin’ for vibes here!” Happy? Sure, if she’s chill. Angry? If she’s late—punctuality, people! Surprised? Once saw a hooker dodge a cop by divin’ into a dumpster—Olympic-level move. I was dyin’ laughin’, “Pretty, pretty good escape!”

Child-friendly legal process on the way

French prosecutors said Friday that football international Franck Ribery did not know that a prostitute he paid for sex was a minor.

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kawai Street for my morning fix. You know, the usual—onigiri and a can of coffee. I’m standing there, half-asleep, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the stock market. I’m like, “Bro, I’m just tryna eat.” But he’s all fired up about some penny stocks. I nod, smile, and think, “This guy’s got more energy than me before my caffeine kicks in.”

How the Co-Founder of an Immigrant Theater Spends Her Sundays