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About Kobe

I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

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Anyway, I finally made it to the park. I plopped down on a bench, trying to chill. But then, I overheard this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting match. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. They were fighting about where to eat. I mean, c’mon, it’s Tanashicho! There’s food everywhere! Just pick a place!