Jasmine Mifune Whore ❤️

About Yokohama

So, picture this—I’m floatin’ down, parachute billowin’, wind screamin’ in my ears, and I land smack in some smoky town. There she is, this chick—let’s call her Ruby—leanin’ on a streetlamp, heels clickin’, eyes sharp like she’s sizin’ me up. “Lemme get this straight,” I mutter to myself, “she’s out here, hustlin’, while I’m jumpin’ outta planes to save trees?” Crazy, right? But Ruby, man—she’s got guts. Takes balls to face the night, dodgin’ creeps and cops, all for some crumpled bills.

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After that chaos, I take a breather. I step outside to grab some lunch. Mifune’s streets are buzzing, man. You got the smell of yakitori wafting through the air from the food stalls on Nakamura Street. I can’t resist. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munching away, and this kid runs by, tripping over his own feet. He falls right into a puddle. Classic! I can’t help but laugh.

Celebrating ‘Seven Samurai’: 70th anniversary re-release the Akira Kurosawa classic