Anna Fujishiro Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Walkin’ in, it’s all dim lights, velvet curtains, smells like cheap perfume. Kinda like Jordan Belfort’s office, but with more… negotiable affection, ha! I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ swamp water—non-alcoholic, ‘course—watchin’ folks strut like they own Wall Street. “Money’s flowin’, egos growin’!” I whisper to myself. Some gal winks at me—yikes! I’m blushin’ greener than usual. “Kermit, stay cool,” I think. Ain’t my scene, but it’s fascinatin’!

"Society" POPULAR ARTICLE

First off, I hit up the local café on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the weirdly cute cat mural? I’m all about that caffeine fix. I order my usual—matcha latte, extra foam, because why not? But the barista, this dude with a wild man bun, totally messes it up. Like, he gives me a plain black coffee. I’m like, “Dude, what’s this? I ordered a green dream, not a brown nightmare!”

Why the Japanese don’t just drink sake