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About Nagoya

Oi, mate, so I’m a carpenter, yeah? Loki, god of mischief, burdened with glorious purpose! And I’m here blabberin’ bout a prostitute—wild, innit? Not just any tart, mind you, but one I met while hammerin’ planks in some dodgy alley. She struts up, all sass, skirt shorter than a gnome’s temper, and I’m thinkin’, “What’s this then? A real live wire!” Reminds me of that flick, *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*—y’know, my fave—where Gigolo Joe’s all smooth, “What do you want me to do?” Same vibe, but dirtier, realer.

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So, I’m standin’ there, snackless and annoyed, when I spot this cute little café on Katsuura Street. I figured, why not? I go in, and the vibe is super chill. The barista, this young guy, is all smiles. He’s like, “What can I get ya?” I’m like, “Coffee, please!” He hands me this cup that’s basically a work of art. I mean, I’m no coffee snob, but dang!

Spring Arrives in Shiretoko, Hokkaido with the Melting of Snow