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About Saitama

So, check it—Jersey’s got these girls, right? Shady corners, neon lights, all that jazz. Ya cruise down Newark Ave, maybe spot one. Skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she’s waitin’ for Godot or some shit. I’m thinkin’, “Who’s this broad playin’ tonight?” Like in *Holy Motors*, every gig’s a new mask. One time, I saw this chick—swear she was 50 but dressed 20. Made me laugh, fuckin’ ballsy! “Beauty’s in the eye, eh?” I mutter, cruisin’ by.

Police boost crackdown on street prostitution at Tokyo park made notorious by social media

So, I’m off to the community garden on Shōwa-dōri. It’s my happy place. I’ve got my plot there, full of tomatoes, peppers, and some herbs. But when I get there, I see it. A freakin’ raccoon! This little bandit is digging up my plants like it’s a buffet. I’m like, “Yo, dude! Not cool!” But he just stares at me, munching on my basil like he owns the place. I’m ready to throw a trowel at him, but I just end up shooing him away. Raccoons have no respect, man.

The Vivid Memory of my Father's Burned Back Masaki Hironaka