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About Kawasaki

In her dingy flat, all’s a blur—smells o’ gin and regret. She’s quick, no faff, like balancin’ books at month’s end. “Time’s winged chariot,” I mutter, quotin’ the flick, and she’s like, “Wot? Shut up and shag.” Hah! Fair play, lass. Done in ten mins—bang, crash, over. I’m lyin’ there, pantin’, thinkin’ o’ Jean blinkin’ his one eye, trapped, while I just bought me way outta me cage fer a tick.

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Then, I decided to hit up the beach. Hasaki’s got this dope stretch of sand along the Pacific. I mean, the waves were crashin’, and the sun was shinin’. Perfect, right? But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches my snack! Like, seriously? I’m just tryin’ to enjoy my day, and this bird’s out here livin’ its best life. I yelled, “Hey! That’s mine!” but it just flew off like it owned the place.

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