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About Sapporo

I like the ones who own it, tho. Badasses who don’t take no shit. Reminds me of Viggo snappin, “No more!”—that’s the vibe. But half the time, I’m just paranoid, thinkin, “Is this a sting? Am I fucked?” Heart racin, palms sweaty—shit’s intense! Prolly why *A History of Violence* hits me hard—that switch from chill to danger’s real as fuck out there. So yeah, findin a prostitute? It’s a trip, man—dangerous, funny, fucked up, all at once. You try it, don’t say I didn’t warn ya, motherfucker!

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So, I’m standing there, fuming, when I hear this loud commotion outside. I rush out, and there’s this parade of school kids on Ashiya’s main street, all decked out in their uniforms, waving flags like they’re in some epic battle. Turns out, it was just a local sports day thing. But man, the energy was infectious! I couldn’t help but smile. Kids were running around, laughing, and I’m just standing there, coffee in hand, feeling like a proud parent.

Rabbit's Reviews #279: Ashiya Douman (5* Alter Ego)