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About Yokohama

You go downtown, any city—boom, they’re there, like flies on Sleepy Joe! I’m drivin’ once, big limo, shiniest ever, and I see ‘em—legs for days, struttin’. Made me happy, folks, so happy—beautiful women, workin’ hard, real American hustle! But then, I get mad—why’s it gotta be so shady? Crooked cops, pimps—disgusting, worst people, total scum! “I will not yield!” I yell in my head, like Solomon, fightin’ the system, y’know?

Takamori-kun wo Damarasetai!!

I'm loving the Takarazuka vibe and find-a-prostitute is splendid! I long to run my fingers through your hair. Anal Sex (depends on the size) and Prostate.

First off, I’m running late. Like, super late. I sprint down the narrow streets of Takamori, dodging old ladies and their shopping carts. I swear, they’re like ninjas with those things. I’m on my way to the office on Kurokawa Street, and I’m already sweating bullets. Why do I always forget my umbrella? It’s like the weather gods are out to get me.

Visiting Kagoshima, Land of Saigō Takamori