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About Osaka

Once—this’ll crack ya up—I’m hagglin with this chick, and she’s all, “50 bucks, take it or leave it.” I’m pissed, yellin, “That’s highway robbery, darlin!” She just stares, like I’m the idiot. Reminds me of “Boyhood”—life’s messy, man, no script. Surprised me how bold she was—tougher than a two-dollar steak. Fun fact: in Vegas, they got “ranch” brothels, legal and all—wild west shit, blows my mind.

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So, I’m walking, feeling all good, when I bump into this group of tourists. They’re lost, looking for the Sandacho Castle. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just up the hill!” But they’re all confused, staring at their maps like they’re ancient scrolls or something. I try to help, but they just keep asking about the best sushi spots. I’m like, “You’re in Sandacho! Just eat everything!”