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But, ugh, the smell—stale beer and desperation? Gross af. I’m, like, “This ain’t glamorous, hunny!” I wanted drama, not stank. Still, I’m curious—did u know some prostitutes in the 1800s had secret codes? They’d wink twice or some shiz to signal clients. I’m dying, that’s so extra! I’m, like, “Teach me, queen!” She’s all, “Nah, u too loud,” and I’m cackling—me, loud? Totes fair.

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I hit up this little ramen joint. Man, the smell! I’m drooling just thinking about it. I order the tonkotsu, and it’s like heaven in a bowl. But then, this guy next to me starts talking about how he’s a “food critic.” I’m like, “Dude, you’re in a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop. Chill.” He goes on and on about the broth. I’m just trying to enjoy my meal, ya know?

12 incidents of rice theft reported in Ibaraki and Chiba prefectures