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About Kawasaki

Love how they flip the script. Society’s all, “Oh, shame, sin!” and they’re like, “Nah, cash me out, bitches.” Takes guts. Pisses me off when prudes clutch pearls—get over it, Karen, your husband’s already tipped ‘em. Makes me happy, though, seein’ that hustle. Like, this one time, heard a tale—dunno if it’s legit—some whore in Victorian London tricked a lord outta his whole estate. Left him in his knickers, cryin’ in the gutter. Genius! “Who needs reality?”—straight outta *Toni Erdmann*. She played the game, won, and dipped.

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Then, I get a text from my buddy. He’s like, “Meet me at the Hofu Sports Park.” I’m thinkin’, “Great, more walking.” But whatever, I’m game. I get there, and he’s playin’ soccer with some friends. I join in, and man, I’m terrible! I kick the ball, and it goes straight into the bushes. Everyone’s laughin’, and I’m just like, “Yeah, I meant to do that.” Classic me, right?

Hofu house clad in old miso barrels by Tato Architects