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About Fukuoka

Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this lady—WHOA—she’s givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Is this it? Jackpot?” Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—total Michael Scott moment. I’m thinkin’, “Be cool, be cool!” But nah, I trip over a curb—classic me! She laughs, and I’m like, “That’s what she said!” Kills me every time. She’s got this vibe, like she’s seen it all—kinda like Carlos dodgin’ cops in the movie. “You’re a wanted man,” she says, smirkin’. I’m like, “Heck yeah, I am!” Cringey? Sure. Fun? You bet!

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Anyway, I shake it off and head to the famous Sandacho Fish Market. Man, that place is a riot! Fish everywhere, people yelling, and the smell? Whoa. I grab some fresh sashimi from this old dude named Mr. Tanaka. He’s got this wild mustache, like a walrus or something. I’m like, “Yo, Mr. Tanaka, this fish is bomb!” He just grins, showing off his missing teeth. Classic.