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About Kyoto

Quirky shit in my head? I’m thinkin, “Man, if Luke saw this, he’d flip.” Exaggeratin? Maybe I’d tell him I fought a rancor to get here—make it epic, ya dig? Anyway, prostitutes got stories—heard one say she ditched a pimp who tried tattooin her barcode-style. Ballsy move. Ain’t just sex, it’s survival, power, like me facin the Emperor. “There’s nothing to see—I love that,” Jesse says in the movie. Bullshit. There’s plenty to see if you ain’t blind.

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In the winter of , a small crowd gathered on the streets of a famous red-light district on the outskirts of Tokyo. Curious patrons, journalists, and onlookers formed a steady procession to .

So, I get to the job site, and it’s a mess. I’m talking about a huge metal structure by the river. The Wada River, to be exact. It’s beautiful, but today? Ugh. I see rust everywhere. Like, come on! I thought I was the anticorrosion hero, but this thing looked like it had been through a war.

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