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About Kobe

Oh, honey, lemme tell ya—breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President”—findin a prostitute ain’t no picnic! I’m sittin here, thinkin bout *Moonrise Kingdom*, ya know, my fave flick—Wes Anderson’s a genius—and I’m like, damn, Sam and Suzy ran off into the woods, all innocent and wild, but this? This is a whole diff game, darlin! Findin a prossie—shit, it’s like huntin for a rare bird in a storm. You gotta know where to look, who to ask, and not get pissed when some creep tries rippin ya off.

Transport from airports

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Otsu’s main street, Route 161. Grabbed my usual onigiri and a can of iced coffee. You know, the good stuff. But then, bam! I spill coffee all over my shirt. Great start, right? I’m standing there like a total mess, trying to clean it up with napkins. Classic me.

Figure 3. Eye's binary image with Otsu optimal threshold.