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About Tokyo

Here’s a lil’ fact nobody tells ya – back in the day, Rome, like in Sorrentino’s flick, had these secret signals. Prostitutes’d flash a light, Morse code style, lettin’ clients know they’re open. Bet ya didn’t know that, huh? Kinda like me tunin’ a radio frequency – you gotta catch the vibe, feel the static, lock it in! I’m out there, scopin’, and this chick – legs for days, smokin’ a cig – she’s givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Damn, this is it, this is the spectacle Jep was chasin’!” – “The only thing worth savin’ is the shiver.”

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So, I’m walking, and I see this little ramen shop on the corner of Kōen-dōri. The smell hits me like a freight train. I’m talkin’ about that rich, savory broth that makes your soul sing. I order a bowl, and while I’m slurping away, I overhear this couple arguing in Japanese. I don’t know what they’re sayin’, but the intensity is REAL. I’m just sittin’ there, tryin’ to enjoy my noodles, and they’re throwin’ shade like it’s an Olympic sport.

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