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About Nagoya

Ya wanna know the best part? The hunt—trackin’ ‘em, feelin’ that pulse. Makes me happy, giddy even—like a kid with a new toy. But the stench—cologne and desperation—fuckin’ chokes ya sometimes. Worse than a morgue. Still, I’d do it again—maybe tonight. “A census taker once tried to test me,” but a prossie? She knows the game, plays it dirty. That’s my style—grubby, messy, fuckin’ glorious. Whaddya say, pal—wanna join the feast?

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Finally, I make it. The place is packed. I mean, it’s like a concert for antiques. People everywhere, all hyped up. I’m feelin’ the energy, ya know? But then, bam! My mic cuts out. Just dead silence. I’m standin’ there, lookin’ like a deer in headlights. I can hear crickets. Like, really? In the middle of Ami?

Congressman Ami Bera responds to federal budget cuts to education