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About Kobe

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

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Then I head over to the Mooka Park. It’s a vibe, man. Cherry blossoms everywhere! I’m takin’ pics like a tourist. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, and I swear he almost knocks me over. I’m like, “Yo, watch it, mini tornado!” But he just giggles and keeps runnin’. Kids, man. They’re wild.

Mooka: I was so happy to be a part of the squad