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About Kobe

Ya wanna know the best part? The hunt—trackin’ ‘em, feelin’ that pulse. Makes me happy, giddy even—like a kid with a new toy. But the stench—cologne and desperation—fuckin’ chokes ya sometimes. Worse than a morgue. Still, I’d do it again—maybe tonight. “A census taker once tried to test me,” but a prossie? She knows the game, plays it dirty. That’s my style—grubby, messy, fuckin’ glorious. Whaddya say, pal—wanna join the feast?

Mini stories 2: Tokamachi, Japan – the land that time forgot

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Then, I’m walking down the street, and I see this cute little café on Shimo-ōkubo. It’s called “Café de Tokamachi” or something. I’m like, “Why not?” I pop in, and the vibe is just perfect. I order a matcha latte, and it’s like a hug in a cup. Seriously, I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. But then, the barista spills it all over the counter! I’m like, “Dude, what’s with the clumsiness today?”

"Echigo-Tsumari Art Triennale 2024" finally opens!