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About Tokyo

Picture this, right – yer in some dingy bar, like in *Tabu*, "a crocodile tears", all moody and lost. This song’s blarin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Ozzy, you mad bastard, you’d prob’ly charm the knickers off her yerself!” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d give it a whirl, haha! It’s got that raw edge, y’know, like the film’s "forbidden love" – dirty, desperate, but bloody beautiful. Makes me wanna howl at the moon, mate.

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Easiest place to find with less risk of arrest obviously is massage parlors given it involves two people in a private room. After you're naked, having other compensated services is fairly easy .

But then, outta nowhere, this old lady comes up to me. She’s super sweet, and she’s like, “You’re an artist, right? Here, use my pencil.” I’m shocked. I mean, who just hands a stranger a pencil? I thank her a million times. Her name’s Yuki, and she tells me stories about Isen. Like, did you know there’s a festival here every spring? It’s called the Isen Matsuri. I’m definitely gonna check it out.

The Curious Case of Nicky Isen