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About Nagoya

I knew this chick once—Candy, real name prolly Susan—worked corners in Tampa, brother. She’d laugh, sayin, “Hogan, I’m the champ of this ring!” Tough as nails, dude, but sad too. Heard she got outta the game—ran off with some trucker. Hope she’s happy, ya know? Surprised me, tho—thought she’d wrestle that life forever. Little fact for ya: back in old Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs to stand out—wild, right? Imagine that, brother, bleach-blonde hustlers in togas!

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After that, I head over to the Hasuda Shrine. It’s so peaceful there. I’m taking a breather, soaking in the vibes. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and I’m just standing there, feeling all zen. But then, this group of tourists shows up, and they’re LOUD. Like, can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here? I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile. They’re just excited, I guess.

Benoni karatekas bring home the medals