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About Kobe

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m George W. Bush, talkin’ ‘bout brothels—yep, them houses of ill repute! Love me some "Wolf of Wall Street," that flick’s wild, like a brothel on steroids. Leonardo’s out there, screamin’, “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!”—kinda how I feel ‘bout this topic. So, brothels, man, they’re old as dirt. Been around since them Roman days, called lupanars—fancy word, huh? Prostitutes had to dye their hair blonde, stand out like a sore thumb. Fool me once, shame on—uh, you know, shame on me, can’t get fooled again!

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First stop? The local café, you know, the one on Shōwa-dōri. I’m all hyped for my usual matcha latte. But guess what? They ran outta matcha! Like, how do you run outta matcha in Japan? I was ready to throw a fit. But then, I saw this cute cat chillin’ outside. Instant mood booster! I named him Mochi.

Arthroscopic Removal of a Wire Fragment from the Posterior Septum of the Knee following Tension Band Wiring of a Patellar Fracture