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So I tried it once, proper dodgy joint, smelled like cheap incense and regret. Bird’s hands on me, I’m thinkin’, “This is it, Ricky, you’ve peaked!” Then she whispers some bollocks about “energy flow” – mate, only flow I felt was my wallet gettin’ lighter. “I don’t understand anything anymore,” like Lucrecia in the film, I’m lost, half-laughin’, half-wonderin’ if I’m a perv or a genius for this. Cost me a ton, too – 80 quid for 30 minutes! Daylight robbery, but those hands? Bloody magic.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Omiya Street. Gotta grab my morning fix, ya know? I’m all about that onigiri life. But guess what? They were outta my fave flavor—salmon! Like, c’mon, Saitama! How you gonna run outta salmon? I was ready to throw a fit right there. But I settled for some weird tuna thing. Not the same, man. Not the same.

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