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About Yokohama

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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That's because the kure members lowkey want to marry for love, so they keep bluffing their leaders into believing that they are choosing a gifted individual.

But then, I get a call. My buddy’s in trouble. He’s stuck in traffic on Kure’s Route 31. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a Saturday! What’s the hold-up?” Turns out, a parade is happening. A freakin’ parade! I’m missing out on all the fun. I’m angry, but also kinda jealous. I mean, who doesn’t love a good parade?

‘Everything just happened so quickly’: witness describes moment she saw missing swimmer disappear under the waves at Kure Beach