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About Kawasaki

Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

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After the meeting, I decided to take a stroll through Yamazakicho. The streets are lined with cherry blossom trees, and they were in full bloom. It was beautiful, honestly. I stopped by the little shops on Nakabirose Street. There’s this quirky store that sells all kinds of random stuff—like, who needs a cat-shaped teapot? But I love it! I ended up buying a weird keychain that looks like a sushi roll. Totally worth it.