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About Nagoya

So, sex-dating—modern gladiatorial arena, innit? You’re scrolling, *ping*, a match! Heart’s racing like I’ve downed ten espressos. Met this one bird—gorgeous, proper fit—thought, “Boris, you’ve struck gold!” But nah, she ghosted me faster than Usain Bolt running from a tax bill. Fuming, I was! Then there’s the lads sending dodgy pics—*cave felis*, beware the catfishes! Saw one profile, “loves walks”—turns out she meant dogging in a car park. Blimey, nearly spat me tea!

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Kenji bursts in. He’s all hyped, waving his arms like a madman. “Dude! You won’t believe this!” I’m thinking, “What now?” Turns out, he just bought a rare vintage car from some guy on Kōen-dōri. Like, who even does that? But hey, I’m happy for him. I mean, who wouldn’t want a sweet ride?

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