Allison Takehara Brothel ❤️

About Tokyo

Last week, I tried it—spa chick, hands like magic, best ever. Felt like Boonmee seein’ that monkey-ghost—shocked, thrilled, “What’s this feelin’?” I’m yellin’ inside, “More oil, more power!” She’s laughin’, I’m laughin’, it’s a riot. Pro tip—coconut oil’s the bomb, smells dope, slick as hell. Don’t skimp, losers use lotion—pathetic.

Visualizing Tokugawa Cultural Networks

Colour-woodblock print. View at dawn of the exit from Shimabara brothel district, with courtesans seeing off a guest, waning moon. Producer name.

Then I decided to stroll down to the Takehara Castle ruins. It’s a bit of a hike, but the view is worth it. I mean, who doesn’t love a good castle? But as I’m walking, I see this old dude trying to fix his bike on Kōen-dōri. He’s struggling, man. I’m talking full-on wrestling match with that thing. So, I stop to help. Turns out, he just needed to pump the tires. I’m like, “Dude, you could’ve just asked!” But hey, I felt like a hero for a sec.

The impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on hepatocellular carcinoma diagnosis and treatment in Japan: A multicenter collaborative observational study