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I ask her rate—50 bucks, she says. Fifty?! Got me pissed—highway robbery! Last week, I heard a guy in Chicago got it for 20. Inflation’s a bitch, huh? “Dreams don’t come cheap,” I mutter, thinkin of Sara Goldfarb’s delusions. Anyway, she’s got this scar on her cheek—says a john cut her once. Freaky shit. Kinda turned me on, tho—danger’s my jam.

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And the Motegi Racing Touge wheel, it looks like dark grey on the reference picture above. Grayish green metallic is the body paint for the full.

So, I’m daydreaming about ramen when this old guy walks in. He’s got this wild hair, like a mad scientist. He’s mumbling about the cherry blossoms on Motegi Hill. I’m like, “Yeah, they’re beautiful, man.” But he’s not listening. He’s off on some tangent about how they remind him of his youth. I’m just nodding, trying not to laugh.

Bagnaia wins 'super boring' Motegi MotoGP race, Acosta down again