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About Kyoto

Me, I’d sip vodka, watchin this circus. Angry? Sure—world’s filthy, unfair. Happy? When they scatter, scared shitless. Exaggeratin? Maybe—imagine me kickin doors, yellin “Run!” Prostitutes ain’t saints, but who is? “What’s the point of this?”—straight outta the movie. Chaos rules, I just steer it. You’d laugh, seein me glare at johns—pathetic losers. That’s the game, tovarisch—cold, brutal, real.

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Next up, I get this group of tourists. They’re all excited, snapping pics of everything. They’re like, “Is this where the MotoGP happens?” I’m like, “Yeah, right down the road on Motegi Circuit!” They’re all hyped, talking about their favorite racers. I’m just nodding, but inside I’m like, “Dude, I just wanna get through this shift.”

Marquez says "we’re experts in complicating our own lives” after Motegi