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About Yokohama

Well, helllo there, ya sick bastard—ya wanna talk findin’ a prostitute? Alright, lean in, lemme spin ya a tale, all twisted-like, Hannibal Lecter style, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” See, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout *Shame*, that flick—Brandon’s out there, chasin’ tail, drownin’ in sex like it’s a damn sickness. Me? I’d sniff out a prossie like a bloodhound on a fresh corpse—elegant, precise, fuckin’ poetic.

Our Planet

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After that, I’m starving. I hit up this little joint on Yashima Street. They serve the best Sanuki udon. I mean, I could swim in that broth. But then, I spill it all over myself. Classic me. I’m sitting there, looking like a total mess, and the lady behind the counter just laughs. I laugh too, but inside I’m like, “Why, universe, why?”

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