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About Saitama

Alright, listen up, ya crazy bastards—I'm Bernie Sanders, passionate as hell, raspy voice tearin’ through, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here to talk about whores, yeah, the real deal. Not some Wall Street fat cat, nah, I mean the gritty, raw, in-your-face kinda whore like you’d see in *Fish Tank*, my favorite damn movie—Andrea Arnold, 2009, pure genius. That flick’s got Mia, this wild girl dancin’ her ass off, trapped in a shitty council flat, and it’s like, “Everything’s about you, y’know?”—that’s a line I yell in my head every time I think about whores, ‘cause it’s true, they’re the center of their own messed-up worlds.

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with the best onigiri? I grabbed a couple, and dude, they were fresh! Like, I could taste the ocean in ‘em. But then, I spilled my drink all over my shirt. Classic me, right? I was like, “Awesome, now I look like a walking disaster.”

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