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About Kobe

So, picture this—late night, city buzzin’, I’m tryna find a prostitute, not just any, tho. Gotta be real, gotta have that spark. I’m cruisin’, windows down, heart racin’—what’s good? Saw this one chick, heels clickin’, skirt short, eyes sharp like she’s runnin’ the block. Reminds me of Collé from *Moolaadé*, fierce, holdin’ her ground, sayin’, “I offer asylum,” but in her own way, ya feel me? She’s out here, dodgin’ cops, hustlin’, and I’m like—damn, that’s power.

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Kenji swings by. He’s a total jokester. He walks in, sees me all grumpy, and says, “You look like you just lost a barrel race!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Kenji’s got that magic touch. We ended up chatting about the Hakui Matsuri coming up. It’s this awesome festival with floats and food stalls. I got all hyped thinking about the yakitori and the taiko drumming.

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