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About Kobe

So, this one time, saw this gal—prostitute, obvi—near my shop. Red heels, fishnets, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn block. Made me happy, dunno why, maybe ‘cause she’s out there, fearless, while I’m snippin’ bangs all day. But then—bam!—some jerk yells at her, “Slut!” and I’m pissed. Like, dude, mind ya business! She just flips him off, smirks, keeps strutin’. Total badass. Reminds me of that line, “What’s hidden stays hidden,” ‘cept she ain’t hidin’ shit.

The Written Face

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But then, outta nowhere, this group of tourists walks in, and they’re LOUD. Like, can you not? They’re talking about how they’re gonna hit up Hiroshima next. I’m like, “Cool, but you’re in Takehara! Enjoy it!” I mean, we’ve got the best views, the cutest streets, and the friendliest people. But nah, they’re too busy planning their next Insta pic. Ugh.

His take on Japanese cuisine changed Sacramento’s dining scene. Now he’s up for a national honor