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About Kobe

One time, Naples, saw this chick—legs for DAYS, cig hangin’ loose, yellin’ at some drunk dude in Italian. Thought, “She’s a BOSS!” Turns out, she’d been workin’ since 14—FOURTEEN, yo! Pissed me OFF—world’s fucked, lettin’ kids do that. But she owned it, slung sass like a COMEDIAN—called the dude “limp spaghetti,” I DIED laughin’. Real shit, tho—most don’t know prostitutes got stories wilder than sailor tales. Some chick in Singapore? Used to be a NUN—swear to GOD! Fell for a sailor, ditched the habit, now she’s bangin’ for bucks. Surprised me—nuns to NASTY? Life’s a TRIP!

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It depicts iconic historical figures, men and women, courtiers, samurai and clerics all as obsessed with lust, from Shōtoku Taishi, through Empresses and Kōbō.

After that, I hit up the Takehara Art Museum. I’m not even an art person, but they had this exhibit on local artists. Some of the stuff was wild! Like, one painting looked like a cat threw up on a canvas. I’m standing there, trying to figure out if it’s genius or just plain weird. I’m laughing to myself, and this lady next to me gives me the side-eye. Chill, lady! Art is subjective, right?

Fluorescence microscopy on a chip -- no lenses required