Working 12-hour days suck.

I was at the office until after 9:00 last night and then later stayed up until 2:30 in the morning making golf clubs out of cardboard boxes for Judy’s students (don’t ask). Today again, I worked until 9:30.

My brain stopped functioning long ago, and I think I may have soiled myself some time around 8:00 or so.

Okay, this isn’t the latest I’ve ever worked by far, but TGIF, you know what I mean?

I hope you all have a Happy Halloween. Why don’t you celebrate by watching Japanese girls bitchslap one another? Amateur vs. Actress!

Last night, instead of going to sleep at a relatively reasonable hour like I should have, I stayed up to see if anything interesting was on TV. Lo and behold, among the plethora of programs featuring celebrities eating and badly dubbed American infomercials, I discovered yet another example of WTF-to-the-MAXXX!

On Tuesday nights on TBS there’s a variety show called Dragon & Ball Hour starring the combined members of the comedy duos Drunk Dragon and Football Hour. I hadn’t seen it before, but it seemed to be pretty standard fare as far as Japanese comedy shows go — bad wigs, cross-dressing, corny jokes and a peculiar fondness for smacking people over the head — except for one segment.

Unfortunately, I only caught the last few minutes of it, but it basically seemed to go something like this: a group of 20 or so women were standing on a stage, and each comedian was given a chance to make a guess about some criteria the women might possess (for example, one comedian asked if any of the women owned garter belts). If there were any women among the group who met the criteria, they would remain standing while those who didn’t meet the criteria would sit down. The next comedian would then get a chance to make a guess about the remaining women standing. In the end, if one comedian narrowed the group down to one last woman, he would win a kiss.

. . . Or something like that. I apologize for the shoddy description, but I’m sure you get the idea.

Anyhow, in the last round, only two women remained standing. The comedians made their guesses, but one-by-one, they failed. Their fate: The Punishment Game. What, pray tell, is The Punishment Game? Please allow me to illustrate with the following images:

(Yes, I had my camera handy while watching TV. Yes, I know that’s pathetic.)

Here, Tsukaji Muga of Drunk Dragon (bottom left) makes his guess. [BTW, I have no idea why the woman on the right is wearing a crown and robe.] Unfortunately, I didn’t hear what Muga said (I had the volume turned down because Judy was in the next room sleeping), but whatever guess he ventured was FALSE!

The sound of the buzzer brought the arrival of. . .

Three ripped black guys in briefs!

What followed next was madness. The three guys proceeded to strip Muga of his clothes, spread his legs in the air and slap him around like a little bitch. Observe:

Um. . . yeah, that pretty much left me speechless.

Last Friday morning Judy came down with a cold and ended up spending all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday in bed with a fever. I, being the tender, loving, caring boyfriend that I am, faithfully stayed by her side to answer her every beck and call. Of course, that left me unable to do much else, but after putting a new batch of games on my GBA flash card, I was set.

I hadn’t played video games for hours on end since I was nine years old.

After her condition failed to improve by over the weekend, this morning we went to the major hospital near our apartment and tried to see a doctor. We arrived at 8:30 in the morning, and after registering, were told that Judy we would be able to be seen between 10:30 and 11:00. Unfortunately, as was to be expected, Judy didn’t get to see the doctor until after 12:30 — nearly four hours after we arrived. (Even if you have an appointment, the wait usually ends up being between 2 to 3 hours.)

After a brief 5-minute consultation, she was sent to get a blood test (another 30-minute wait) followed by another hour of waiting before being able to see the doctor again discuss the results. In the end, even after additional testing, the doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her and so she was given a bagful of medication (general antibiotics) and told to come back if they didn’t work.

Japan’s medical system is world-renowned, and although the care is generally top-notch (instances of gross malpractice aside), the system is still wrought with inefficiencies like you wouldn’t believe. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to get into it at the moment (nor will I likely ever), so I’ll refer anyone who’s interested in reading more to start with this article.

Anyway, back to continuing my bedside care. . . here’s hoping Judy’ll get better soon!

I took a peek at my logs last night and noticed something disturbing interesting. Among the many recent search queries that have brought visitors to this site, several stand out for obvious reason, including the following:

• japanese babes
• chicken fight pool photos
• meeting kogal in tokyo
• japanese upskirts
• mazakon
• hideki matsui porno
• rorita
• upskirts of olsen twins
• water slide oops nipple
• guy with elephantine schlong

(Okay, I made that last one up)

Now, the list above either indicates that a) I am a pervert for having mentioned the above words in some combination or another, or b) that the internet is awash in licentious perverts who actively search out salacious material using the above words in specific combination.

Or perhaps, as you’re probably all thinking, it could be c) all of the above.

Well, after Tuesday’s über-serious post, I thought I would post something nice & tasteless in order to bring this site back down to the gutter where it most likely belongs. Furthermore, if this list above is any indication, it would apparently be to most readers’ liking.

Anyhow, we all have heard the hackneyed expression “sex sells.” Unfortunately, in the U.S. at least, there is an overabundance of domineering conservative “family value” groups who jump at any opportunity to launch an attack at corporations, advertising agencies, television stations, production companies, etc. who exhibit any kind of content that someone somewhere out in the world might possibly deem offensive.

Thankfully, Japan is not like that (not yet, anyhow). Although in recent years, there has been some “cleaning up” of magazines, late-night television programming and the like, this country remains as one of the few remaining bastions of politically incorrect cheap titillation.

A recent example is the new commercial for Kirea Water, which features model/actress Miyaji Mao. In the ad, she is shown rolling around in bed while “full nude” (as the Japanese say), tracing her fingers along various curves of her body, revealing a continuous line of the word tsumaranai under the caress of her fingertips. Upon reaching her navel, her fingers stop at the words “tsumaranai mizu deta“.

What the heck does that mean? Well, I — as a not-even-close-to-fluent speaker of the Japanese language (and a general simpleton to boot) — took tsumaranai to mean “boring,” as I commonly hear it used. In that case, the final line would mean (vaguely) “boring water is here.” Yeah, that didn’t make any sense to me either. A little research revealed that the ad’s usage of tsumaranai was in fact the negative form of the verb tsumaru, which means “to clog” (which would explain why it was written in katakana as opposed to hiragana). Thus, the meaning is actually roughly something like “water that does not clog you is here.”

To put it simply, this water helps you poo.

Anyway, the ad is certainly worth a look if you’re a lecherous perv (or simply don’t have anything better to do). Seeing as my girlfriend would probably murder me if I were to do so, it would probably be best if I didn’t comment on the attractiveness of the girl in the ad. . . but off the record, I’d hit that shit ’til I died of dehydration!

If you want to take a look at the commercial, go here and click on either of the top two buttons to watch the streaming video (the one of the left is 1.6MB and the right is 430KB).

Well, I mailed off my absentee ballot yesterday. Although I submitted an absentee application way back in March, for some reason the ballot was inexplicably sent to my parents’ house in California, and so they had to forward it to me here. Hopefully it will arrive at the county registrar’s office in time.

While I’m not the type to push my political beliefs on others, I thought I would take a moment to bring attention to a perspective that might not be readily apparent to those living in America:

My fellow Americans, despite what the Bush administration and Fox News would have you believe, THE REST OF THE WORLD FUCKING HATES US RIGHT NOW.

Since coming to Japan in September of 2001, I have had the chance to meet people hailing from countries all around the globe, and the one thing that has united them despite their diverse origins has been their mutual hatred of George W. Bush and his cronies. I can’t tell you the number of times that, upon revealing that I am American, I have been immediately subjected to rants and tirades against the U.S. government. Uncouth, yes, but the fact is that America’s actions affect not just the American people, but the whole of the world as well. Thankfully, I don’t live in a country where I am at risk of getting my head hacked off simply because of the passport I carry, but sadly not everyone can say the same.

I can only imagine how some people might respond to criticism from people in other countries: “Who gives a flyin’ howdy-do about what some know-nothin’ commy furriners think about us? We’re the greatest country on God’s green earth and the rest of the world can just kiss our fat asses! Ha ha ha! U-S-A! U-S-A!”

I would like to think that I’m exaggerating, but sadly it appears that in fact many people share this opinion.

Obviously, I know that nothing I say on this dinky little speck on the interweb is going to influence the way anyone will vote next month [You are going to vote, right? Riiight?], however I hope you’ll think long and hard about how the outcome of this election will affect not only the American public, but the rest of the world as well. Has the War on Terror ™ really been a smashing success? Is the world a safer place than it was four years ago? What does “stay the course” actually mean, considering the “course” thus far has been nothing but bumbling, ill-conceived operations that have resulted in the deaths of hundreds of American soldiers and thousands of Iraqi civilians?

I’ve given a lot of thought to these questions and others over the past several months, and I hope everyone else has as well. We are at a critical point in history at this moment. . . so let’s try not to screw things up even worse, shall we?

Okay, it’s time for me to crawl back under my rock now. Happy voting!

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Yes, today’s title was a stupid crack at the Japanese L/R problem, but after being asked countless times whether I’m going to vote for “Busshu” or “Kelly,” I just couldn’t resist.

One line in the article I mentioned last week in particular that made me chuckle was the part where author brought up Japanese toilets:

Not only are toilet seats heated, but toilets universally include a bidet or a more general water spray from below — your choice.

He makes it sound as if all toilets here are a) Western, b) heated, and c) equipped with space-age ass-cleansing technology. If only that were the case. In reality, while many homes are equipped with modern Western-style toilets, when searching for a lavatory while out and about — especially in train stations, department stores and restaurants — the likelihood of encountering nothing but piss-stained, excrement-encrusted squat toilets is extremely high.

That was the case yesterday when I was out shopping in Shibuya. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say there’s nothing quite as unpleasant as trying to maintain balance and do one’s business whilst perched precariously with one’s pants around one’s ankles over a small hole in a slippery, urine-soaked floor. Sure, squatters aren’t unique to Japan, but I firmly believe that the moment we humans first progressed as a species was the day an ingenuitive caveman dug a hole in the ground, surrounded it with a couple of logs and sat down to drop his prehistoric load in comfort.

This has been around for ages, but click here to see an animated guide to using Japanese squat toilets.

After a long week at work, it’s finally Friday evening and all I want to do is go home and sleep. Hooray for working life.

Here’s a photo of the infamous Godzilla statue in Ginza:

Apparently people have gone through great lengths to find it, but I happened to just stumble upon it by accident a few months ago while wandering around the area (the statue is tucked away near the Toho Twin Tower Building, not far from JR Yurakucho station).

The statue itself is only about a meter or so tall, but it’s impressive nonetheless. Definitely something I would love to decorate my living room with, had I the necessary heavy lifting equipment and a band of stealthy larcenists at my call.

Sometimes it’s downright incredible how outlandish people’s misconceptions about Japan are.

Case in point: this article, which was sent to me last week by a friend. Entitled Living and Dying in Tokyo, the author, Adam Sparks, begins with:

My mother-in-law passed away last week, and I attended the funeral in Tokyo. The five-day wake was a mind-blower in so many ways. It made me think of just how different Japan is than the United States and how, in so many ways, it is so far superior, both culturally and technologically. We have much to learn.

He then goes on to list the most clichéd stereotypes and far-fetched assertions about Japan that I have ever read. The result is pure comic gold; a mediocre work of middle school-level fiction that reads like a James Clavell novel. It’s blindingly obvious just how little understanding the author has of Japan and how clueless he truly is. Seriously, if I were to break down the article and provide evidence to refute the blatant falsehoods in each and every sentence, it would take me all week. (The irrelevant sentence about Dubya thrown in at the end was quite a doozy, too.)

The funniest (yet saddest) thing is that many people will probably read the article and believe every word of it. Incidentally, at this moment, those people are probably at home, dressed in yukata, polishing their Sailor Moon figurines and watching their collector’s edition of Akira, while dreaming of the day when they will arrive on Japan’s shores.

It really is surprising how drastically different Japan’s international reputation is from reality. Movies like Lost in Translation and The Last Samurai paint a picture of an advanced, utopian society in which all of the men possess an honorable samurai spirit and all of the women are hot, subservient babes. I suppose I myself am also guilty of having a somewhat idealistic view of this country before I arrived. However, seeing as I’ve never been much a video game fan nor have I ever watched an anime film in my life (a fact that gives me much pride), my preconceptions came mainly from Japanese toys from the 80s and The Toxic Avenger Part II.

Japan as an entity is very good at showing off only the best of its culture and society to temporary visitors, who are carefully shepherded around by handlers and guides to prevent the guests from seeing the “real” Japan. It’s easy for people to float around in a little tourist bubble for a few days and then go home with a head full of exotic memories. Meanwhile, those of us who decide to try to take root here (at least for a little while) find that Japan is not quite the welcoming land of gadgetry and geishas that it’s made out to be.

Anyhow, I don’t want to knock this country too much. Sure, like any place, it has its downsides, but if I didn’t like it I would have left a long time ago. I just feel that misleading articles like the one above tend to cause more harm than good, as a lot of impressionable people who do make it over here and try to acclimatize eventually end up bitter and jaded. For anyone curious about learning about the realities of the so-called Land of the Rising Sun, I recommend stopping by this site as well as reading a book or two on the subject.

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Here are some uninteresting photos from Shinagawa Intercity that I took a couple of months ago while wandering around killing time:

Well, the typhoon on Saturday didn’t turn out to be all that bad. By the time I left my office, it had nearly passed and there was barely a drizzle of rain, so despite Judy calling me an idiot for staying at work, I guess it was good that I did.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night for some reason and so my mental capacity today is even less than usual. Thus, in lieu of my usual inane ramblings, I’ll leave you with a photo of an acrobatic monkey:

Shortly after I took this photo, the monkey lost its balance and fell into an onlooker’s baby stroller. The baby freaked out and started wailing while the audience chuckled (”Aww, so cute”), but thankfully the kid was okay. The monkey got quite a scolding though.

Not only was I forced to come in to work on a Saturday, but at the moment a typhoon is raging violently outside.

Here’s hoping I make it home alive!

Sometimes the only readily discernable difference between two people is the color of their socks.

So last night the president wanted to go out drinking yet again, and so everyone in my office promptly and without protest sacrificed another evening with their families to appease the almighty shacho. Thankfully, I was able to get out of going to the nijikai (second party) and got to go home “early” at midnight (the others apparently stayed out until 2:30 in the morning, despite it being THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING WEEK).

Although I limited my imbibation to but a few beers and a glass of shochu, I somehow still woke up with a bit of a hangover. Normally, that wouldn’t be much of a problem (seeing as showing up for work with a hangover is a sign of pride for the salaryman), but unfortunately, the first thing on my morning agenda today was a trip up to the company headquarters two hours away for the yearly physical exam. It was pretty standard (pee in a cup, hearing test, chest x-ray), but the experience was exponentially worse than usual due to the crappiness of my condition.

Amazingly enough, however, I somehow managed to score a perfect 1.5/1.5 on the vision test (apparently 1.0/1.0 is the 20/20 equivalent). Now, my vision isn’t normally that good, so I’m left pondering whether the results were despite the hangover or because of it. Perhaps beer goggles are the way to go in times when high-precision vision is crucial: brain surgery, assassin sniper work and, of course, checkin’ out the honeys.

Yesterday I mentioned the Japanese predilection for abbreviating words and phrases, especially those borrowed from other languages, and gave “sexual harassment” as an example.

Another example is mazakon, which is short for mazaa konpurekkusu (”mother complex”, i.e., Oedipus complex). The meaning of mazakon in Japan is somewhat twofold, however: in most instances, it’s used without the sexual connotations to describe a “mama’s boy”-type character, and less frequently, it’s used to describe someone who has a thing for older women (rorikon, — short for rorita konpurekkusu, i.e., Lolita complex — would be the opposite in this case).

I bring this up because last night I saw a commercial for a new drama starting tonight on Fuji TV called “Mother & Lover” starring Sakaguchi Kenji and Shinohara Ryoko. Yes, indeed the same pair that Judy and I saw in Ginza last month.

According to the official website, this incestuously-titled drama features a theatrical troupe member by the name of Shingo (Sakaguchi) who regards his mother as “the woman he loves most in the world.” However, one day he meets an office lady named Hitomi (Shinohara) who is running late for work, and he delivers her to her office in a rickshaw. Immediately taken with one another, they make a date for the following evening.

Surely, there will come a time when young Shingo must choose between his newfound love interest and mommy dearest — tune in to find out!

Blah, typical J-drama drivel. Just like every other drama in the history of the world, this one will be melodramatic, formulaic, cliché-ridden hokum, and the following events will undoubtedly occur:

• They will fall in love at first sight
• She will buy him a necktie or some other article of clothing
• Another woman [in this case, mommy] will come between them
• They will break up while standing in the rain (sans umbrellas)
• She will try to move on with her life, but at some point will collapse on the floor in tears
• She’ll have second thoughts and try to call him, but for some reason or another, he’ll miss the call
• She’ll decide to forget about him for good and will make plans to move to a different city
• He’ll realize that he made a mistake and will reject the other woman
• In the climax, he will run through the streets at night to try to catch up with her before she leaves to tell her that he loves her
• At first it’ll seem like she’s going to tell him to get lost, but then a smile will slowly emerge on her face
• They will embrace passionately
• The entire cast, production staff and audience will simultaneously burst into tears
• I will stab out my eyeballs and pray for death

Yay, I can hardly wait!

I just found out that I’ve apparently become a verb.

Not in a very interesting way, unfortunately (such as, “I wanna jeff you all night long, baby“), but in a way that I suppose is uniquely Japanese.

You see, the language here can be difficult to pronounce at times (even for native speakers) and so it’s very common for words and phrases to be abbreviated, especially loan words from other languages as they tend not to follow the same sound system. For example, “sexual harrassment” is transliterated as sekushuaru harasumento, which I’m sure you can agree is quite a mouthful. Therefore people use “sekuhara” to describe the national workplace pastime.

Anyway, as the only native English speaker in my company, all English documents are proofread and revised by me before being sent out. I received an email by CC today written by the company translator about one assignment in which she wrote that the “jefuchekku” (”jeffcheck”) had been completed and she was submitting the final draft. I asked her about it, and apparently everyone in her office uses that term for my English checks (i.e., “Has this been jeffchecked?”).

Silly, I know, but I thought it was funny.

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Only one photo today — cute little Hello Kitty bouquets that I saw in Ginza on Saturday:

This week has seriously been The Week That Would Not End!

Last night I got home from work ridiculously late (as usual), and after eating dinner, I sat down in front of the TV to veg out a little before going to bed. Not surprisingly, there was another one of those bikini-clad-women-engaging-in physical-challenges shows on, but this one had a unique title that nearly made me forget for just a moment about my miserable existence. The name of the show?

Pooh!

Absolutely fecking brilliant, if you ask me. I wasn’t able to decipher why exactly the program was named after excrement (or the lovable bear who’s stuffed with fluff), but apparently last night’s program was the very last episode, so unfortunately it is likely that I will never know. It’s a shame I didn’t discover this wondrous show earlier, especially since according to the website, the theme on Monday nights is “girls.” How can you go wrong with that?

I guess I should watch late night television more often, eh? Who knows what I’m missing.

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Anyway, here are some photos of the Tokyo Tower — Tokyo’s “famous” (in Japan only) reproduction of Eiffel Tower.