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About Sapporo

Rarrgh! So, findin a prostitute, huh? Man, it’s wild out there. Streets buzzin, lights flashin—kinda like *Tree of Life*, ya know? “The nuns taught us—good, evil.” Choices everywhere, bro. I’m stompin round, hairy paws itchin, thinkin—where’s she at? Prostitutes got stories, man, hidden ones. Like, didja know some work corners since forever? Oldest gig, they say—older than Wookiee wars! Rarrgh! Pisses me off tho—sleazy dudes hagglin prices. Makes my fur bristle, grrr.

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After that chaos, I decided to hit up the Shimada Castle. It’s this old-school place, super cool. I’m wandering around, and I see this group of tourists. They’re all taking selfies, and I’m just there, trying to blend in. But then, I trip over a rock. Classic me, right? I fall, and everyone looks at me. I laugh it off, but inside, I’m dying.

Letter: Shimada’s actions show a lack of professionalism