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About Saitama

So I’m stewin’, right? Angry as hell—why’s this gotta be so complicated? Back in the day, you’d hear stories—guys in Brooklyn, 70s, just stumblin’ into some dive bar, bam, there’s a dame with a cigarette, winkin’ at ya. Now? Now it’s all encrypted chats and “discreet encounters”—what am I, a spy? I’m not cut out for this! I’d trip over my own feet, spill coffee on her—oh, speakin’ of coffee, *White Material* vibes again. “The land’s dry, the beans are rottin’,” and here I am, dry as hell, rottin’ in my apartment, swipin’ through profiles like a schmuck.

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So, I woke up early, like, way too early. The sun was barely up, and I was already chugging coffee like it was my lifeline. I had this plan to hit up Kishiwada Castle first. You know, the one that’s been around since the 16th century? Yeah, that one. I thought, “Hey, let’s get some history in before the chaos.”

Centuries old Kishiwada Danjiri Festival held in Osaka Pref. after 1-yr pandemic hiatus