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About Kawasaki

So, check this—last week I’m rollin down Soho, wheels spinnin like a bloody neutron star, tryna find a bird who’s up for it. Streets smellin like piss an cheap perfume—lovely, innit? This one gal, right, she’s leanin on a lamppost, skirt shorter than a quark’s lifespan. I’m like, “Oi, love, how much?” She squints at me chair—thinks I’m takin the piss. Mate, I was fumin! “Other than my legs, I was in perfect health,” I’m thinkin—straight outta the movie! Me brain’s sharper than a bleedin supernova, don’t judge me wheels!

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I wake up in Enzan, right? This little gem in Yamanashi Prefecture, Japan. I mean, it’s not Tokyo, but it’s got its own vibe. The mountains are like, “Hey, look at us!” and I’m like, “Yeah, I see you, chill out.”

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