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About Saitama

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m the bloody prison warden now, and you wanna hear bout prostitutes? Alright, let’s dive in, yeah? Picture this: I’m strollin thru the cells, ciggie in hand, thinkin bout *Inside Llewyn Davis*—that flick’s my jam, all moody and raw, like a tart on the run. “Man’s gotta eat,” Llewyn says, and ain’t that the truth for these girls? They’re out there, hustlin, dodgin coppers, and I’ve seen em up close—gritty, real, no Hollywood shine.

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In Seminyak, you can find high-class hookers mostly coming from Jakarta, East Europe, and China. Obviously, their rates are on the higher end starting at 1 million rupiahs for all night deals.

After that, I decide to hit up a local ramen joint. You know, the one on Koshigaya Street? Best ramen ever! I order the spicy miso, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m slurping away, feeling like a king. But then, this dude next to me starts talking about his “amazing” card collection. I’m trying to enjoy my food, and he’s going on and on. I’m nodding, but inside, I’m like, “Dude, chill.”

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