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About Kobe

Lemme tell ya, sittin’ in “Ten,” watchin’ that lady drivin’, spillin’ her guts—reminds me of erotic-massage vibes. “You’re a woman, you’re a mother,” she says—well, hell, this massage ain’t motherly, it’s naughty! Hands roamin’ where they shouldn’t, kneadin’ knots outta yer soul. Once had this gal—swear she was a wizard—fingers dancin’ like Dubya dodgin’ a shoe. Felt like I’d died and gone to Crawford, y’all. Surprised me how it’s legal—well, sorta, depends on the joint.

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Finally, I finish up and head to the next job. It’s on the outskirts, near the Tottori Sand Dunes. Man, those dunes are something else. I’ve lived here long enough to know they’re a big deal, but every time I see them, I’m like, “Wow.” It’s like a mini desert right in Japan. I half expect to see camels or something.

Photos of Japan’s Tottori Dunes