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About Nagoya

So, picture this—me, Larry, hirin’ an escort. Strollin’ into some swanky joint, her in a red dress, me in my suspenders. “Sorta like a dream, huh?”—that’s from *Inherent Vice*. But then, bam, she’s quotin’ Shakespeare, and I’m like, “Whoa, didn’t see that comin’!” Happened once, swear—met this gal, escort type, at a party. She knew more about Nixon than me! Freaked me out, happy shock, ya know?

Nagasaki outcall escort service

They are Japan's paid “escorts”, whom are instantly considered to be male prostitutes in Europe. While some of them might be willing to provide sexual services.

Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, and he bumps into me. I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Great. Just great. I’m standing there, looking like a walking coffee stain. I’m mad, but then I see the kid’s face. He’s all wide-eyed and apologetic. I can’t stay mad. I mean, it’s Nagasaki, right? Kids are just being kids.

Nagasaki defends decision not to invite Israel to atomic bomb memorial