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Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? It’s me, Bond, James Bond—suave as ever, “shaken, not stirred.” So, you wanna know ‘bout finding a prossie, eh? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through London’s dodgy bits, like Soho back when it was proper seedy. Dark alleys, neon flickerin’, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of *Shame*—you seen it? That flick’s raw, mate. Brandon’s out there, chasin’ tail, livin’ like he’s got no soul left. “I find you disgusting,” his sister says, but he’s too deep in the game. That’s the vibe—desperate, messy, human.

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So, I’m strolling down Kintetsu Street, right? Just vibin’ to my tunes, when BAM! I see this old lady trying to cross the street. She’s like a ninja, dodging cars like it’s a video game. I’m like, “Yo, lady, you’re a legend!” But then, I realize I’m late for my meeting. Ugh, typical me.

West Japan city says tourism "princess" can now be of any gender