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About Yokohama

Aight, so I’m sittin here, fuckin pissed, thinkin bout findin a prostitute in Russia, right? Respect my authoritah! I’m like some badass actuary, crunchin numbers, but I got needs, ya know? This ain’t no boring ass spreadsheet—this is real shit! I love that movie, *Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring*, that Kim Ki-duk joint, so deep, man, “What you take, you carry,” he says. Heavy as fuck. Anyway, I’m in Moscow, cold as balls, tryna find a chick who don’t mess around. Prostitution’s illegal here, but c’mon, everyones doin it! Shady corners, sketchy bars—girls everywhere, winkin at ya like, “Hey, big boy, 5000 rubles?”

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But then, the day took a turn. I’m walking back, feeling all good, when I see this massive crowd near the station. Turns out, there’s a street performance happening! These guys are juggling, dancing, and just being awesome. I’m laughing, clapping, and then—boom! One of the jugglers drops a flaming baton. I’m like, “Dude, you okay?” But he just laughs it off. Classic Minakuchicho-matoba vibe, right?