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About Kawasaki

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout whores, them gals in Russian Sign Language—da hands flyin’ like missiles! Whore, see, it’s a word, gets folks riled up, makes me madder’n a wet hen. I reckon it’s ‘cause it’s slung ‘round like mud on a pig farm. Fool me once, shame on—uh, you know, shame on somebody! Can’t fool me twice, no siree, I’m sharp as a tack—well, maybe a dull one.

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Then, outta nowhere, this little kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Mister, can you help me find my mom?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not a babysitter!” But I couldn’t just ignore him. So, I helped him look. We searched all over the park. Finally found her by the fountain on Kōen Street. She was chillin’, totally oblivious. I was like, “You might wanna keep an eye on your kid, lady!”

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