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About Kyoto

So, I’m hoverin’, yeah? Debatin’—risk it or leg it? She’s pushin’, “Come on, big boy, time’s tickin’!” Fuckin’ pressure, hate that! Reminds me o’ Lenny, lost in ‘is own head—am I lost too? My precious! Suddenly, this geezer rocks up—her pimp, maybe? Dodgy fucker, gold tooth, stinkin’ o’ gin. “What’s this then?” he snaps. I’m out—fuck that noise! “I don’t remembr you,” I snarl, Memento-style, and scarper quick. No prossie worth a beatin’, eh?

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Finally, I ditch them and head to the beach. The waves are calling my name. I grab my board and hit the water. It’s perfect! I’m riding the waves, feeling like a king. But then, outta nowhere, a seagull swoops down and snatches my sandwich! I’m yelling, “Hey! That’s mine!” But the bird just flies off, looking smug. I swear, those birds are the real pirates here.