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About Saitama

Sarcasm time—sure, sounds glamorous, till the cops roll up! Haha, but serious, it’s gritty. I’m all over the place, typin fast—sry for typos, brain’s racin! Annoys me when folks act holier-than-thou bout it tho. “Amour” hits me again—Anne’s frail voice, “Be quiet, please,” and I’m like, yeah, shut up, judgy world! Prostitution’s messy, raw, human—kinda beautiful in a fucked-up way, yknow? Tell me what ya think, bud!

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Then, outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and lands on my shoulder. I’m like, “What the heck, man?” It’s like the bird’s tryin’ to help or somethin’. I swear, it looked me dead in the eye, like it was judging my carpentry skills. I’m just tryin’ to focus, and this feathered dude’s makin’ it hard. I shoo it away, and it poops on my tool belt. Great. Just great. Thanks, pigeon.