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About Kawasaki

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

Red Light District in Tokyo

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But then, bam! My phone buzzes. My buddy, Taro, texts me. He’s like, “Yo, meet me at Peace Memorial Park.” I’m like, “Sure, why not?” So I head over.

Local View: Approaching anniversary of Hiroshima suddenly more poignant