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About Fukuoka

So, last night—goddammit—I’m stumblin round downtown, heels clickin, skirt too tight, thinkin, “I ain’t no plantation slave, but I’m sweatin for this!” Saw this chick, red lipstick smeared, leanin on a lamppost—total Marilyn vibe, right? I sashay over, all breathy, “Hey, sugar, you workin?” She laughs, raspy, “Honey, I’m off the clock!” Off the clock? Bitch, please! I’m mad as hell—wasted my damn time! Reminds me of that line, “I have no tribe,” from the movie—felt so lost, ya know?

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After that, I decide to hit up the Nagai Art Museum. I’m all about supporting local artists, ya know? I walk in, and it’s like a whole new world. There’s this one piece that’s just a giant canvas splattered with paint. I’m staring at it, thinking, “I could’ve done that!” But then I remember my last attempt at painting. Let’s just say it didn’t end well.

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