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About Nagoya

I hit this sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. This chick’s there, leather skirt, smokin a cig. I go, “Yo, you workin?” She’s all, “Depends, you payin?” Classic! I’m laughin—love the hustle. Reminds me of Scarlett’s line, “Do you think I’m pretty?”—same energy, testin me. I’m like, “Girl, you’re a cosmic trap, I’m caught!” She smirks, I’m HAPPY as hell—found my vibe.

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As far as red light districts go, Tokyo’s Kabukicho near Shinjuku station is relativity tame. Unlike Amsterdam there are no pot houses (aka “coffee shops”), sex workers are not selling their .

First off, I had to rush to the Shimotsuke City Hall on Kōen-dōri. Traffic was a mess! I mean, come on, it’s a Tuesday, not a freakin’ parade day! I’m stuck behind this old dude in a tiny car, going 20 km/h. Like, bro, we’re not in a slow-motion movie! I’m late for my first appointment.

Impact of linked color imaging and blue laser imaging on the diagnosis of esophageal squamous cell carcinoma in iodine unstained areas