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About Tokyo

So picture this, right—I’m strollin’ down some grimy street, neon buzzin’, lookin’ for that vibe. Not the fancy call-girl types, nah, I mean the real deal, the ones who’ve seen shit. Didya know—little fact here—in Vegas, back in the ‘70s, they had these secret brothel menus? Like orderin’ a burger, but with handcuffs! Wild, right? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ some dude’s like, “Gimme the special, extra sauce!” Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this chick—legs for days—catches my eye. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as hell. “What’s your time worth?” I ask, slow, curious-like. She smirks, “More than your watch, pops.”

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While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas Missing: Kadena.

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I’m lookin’ up, and it’s like the sky’s just messin’ with us. But instead of packin’ it in, we all just start dancin’ in the rain. I mean, who cares, right? We’re in Kadena, livin’ it up!

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