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About Osaka

I’ve seen ‘em, struttin’ down dark streets, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Makes me happy, y’know? The hustle! The grit! Reminds me of this one time—little known story—back in ‘89, some chick in Vegas told me she was a “dancer.” Dancer, my ass! She was workin’ the Strip harder than a blackjack dealer. Had a laugh over that—sneaky broad. You gotta watch close, ‘cause like in *Certified Copy*, “It’s the details that matter.” One wrong move, and bam, yer wallet’s gone, or worse—cops!

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First stop, Machida Station. It’s a mad hub, like a beehive of people. I’m dodging folks left and right on the way to the south exit. I swear, if I had a yen for every time I bumped into someone, I’d be rich! Anyway, I’m feelin’ good, ready to jam at this open mic night later.

Lyoto Machida denies being put in coma after Yoel Romero loss