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About Sapporo

So, last week—d’oh!—I’m cruisin’ downtown, belly fulla donuts, lookin’ for some action. Streets are buzzin’, lights flashin’, and I’m like, “Marge’d kill me, but whatever!” You gotta dodge the cops, tho—sneaky bastards. Fun fact: back in old Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs to stand out. Crazy, right? Imagine that—blonde wig, high heels, waitin’ under a lamp post like some ninja from “The Assassin.” “She moves in silence,” like the movie says, and bam, there she is!

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With a gallery overflowing with hot looking Hokkaidō female escorts, you will no doubt be able to find one who fulfills your vision of the “perfect” woman.

Finally, the day wraps up. I’m exhausted but kinda happy. I head home, and the sunset over the mountains is stunning. I stop by the little convenience store on Shimizu Street. Grab a beer. I deserve it, right?

Teammates, fans stand by speed skater Nana Takagi