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About Osaka

So, “whore”—what’s it mean to me? It’s not just some cheap label. Naw, it’s deeper—a product, a system, a vibe. Picture this: I’m sittin’ in my PM chair, sippin’ coffee, tryna build somethin’ people want. And “whore” pops up—not a person, but a metaphor, dig? Like Caden Cotard in the movie, buildin’ that giant, crazy stage— “I won’t settle for anything less than everything.” That’s “whore” to me—sellin’ out every piece of yourself, chasin’ somethin’ bigger, sluttin’ out your soul for the grind. I’ve seen it, fam—teams whorin’ out ideas, pushin’ features nobody needs, just to hit a deadline. Pisses me off, man!

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After that, I stroll down to the Ozora Art Museum. It’s a small gem, but man, the exhibits are wild. There’s this one piece that’s just a giant banana. Like, what? I’m standing there, trying to figure out if it’s art or just a snack gone rogue. I overhear some hipster saying, “It’s a commentary on consumerism.” I roll my eyes. Dude, it’s a banana. Chill.

Intersection that took the life of a beloved Walton teacher dedicated in her memory