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About Osaka

Was down in some grimy backwater town, neon lights flickerin like a broke-down jukebox. Wanted to see what the fuss was bout, ya know? Git-R-Done! I ain’t no saint, but I was curiouser than a cat in a yarn shop. Rolled up to this dive bar—smelled like stale beer and regret. Bartender, big ol’ fella with a lazy eye, says, “Boy, you lookin fer company?” I’m like, “Hell yeah, point me the way!” He nods to this gal in the corner, fishnets ripped to hell, smokin a cig like she’s mad at it.

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Then, outta nowhere, I get a call about a street festival on Shōwa-dōri. I’m like, “Great! More chaos!” But honestly, I love the festivals. The food, the music, the vibe. But today? Nah. I’m stuck on the radio, trying to save iguanas and keep Kenji from becoming a meme.

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