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About Osaka

I went to one once—research, fam. Smelled like cheap perfume and regret. This chick, Candy, she’s tellin me bout her “rates”—I’m like, “Yo, this ain’t UberEats!” Got mad for a sec, ‘cause the vibe was off—dude in the corner looked like he’d rob me. But then she laughed, said, “Don’t overthink it, playa.” Straight outta Korine’s script—“Don’t be a little bitch!”—and I’m like, damn, she’s right. Loosened up, tipped her extra. Felt good, like I won somethin.

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Chihiro's parents eat the food of the spirit, similar to how many prostitutes are forced into it by trying to pay off debts or to support family due to some.

After the show, I’m walkin’ through Takahata, tryin’ to shake off the adrenaline. I hit up a food stall on Takahata Street. Best yakitori ever! I’m munchin’ away, and this little kid comes up to me. He’s like, “You’re a hero!” I’m like, “Nah, just a dude with a cape.” But it hits me, ya know?

Guest Lecture by Kimberly Takahata on 18th-Centuery Scientific Literature in Jamaica