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About Kyoto

So I hit this dive bar, stinks like vodka and regret. This chick, Natasha—fake name, obvi—comes up, all hips and smirks. “You want fun, da?” I’m like, hell yea, but I ain’t payin upfront, no way! She rolls her eyes, but I’m Eric fuckin Cartman—I don’t budge! “Respect my authoritah!” I yell in my head. She’s hot, tho—makes me happy, like, damn, Russia’s got game! Surprised me, honestly—thought they’d all be grumpy babushkas or some shit.

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Miss Hannan said she refused to return to California until a lawyer assured her that Bianchi had been arrested for murder in Bellingham, Wash.

After lunch, I was feeling good. I thought, “Let’s check out the beach!” Hannan’s got this nice little stretch along the coast. I hit up the beach, and it was beautiful. The waves were crashing, and I felt like I could breathe again. But then, I stepped in some seaweed. Gross! I was like, “Why is this my life?”

Hannan turns up its defensive intensity to claim boys basketball district crown