Imaginary Friend: Happy Halloween, Jeff!
Me: Thank you, my imaginary friend. Happy Halloween to you, too.
I.F.: So, did you do anything fun to celebrate?
Me: Well, only if you consider having a tube shoved up your nose and worked down your esophagus, through your stomach and into your small intestine to be “fun.”
I.F.: Yikes, that sounds rather unpleasant.
Me: Indeed it was.
I.F.: Have you ever had tubes inserted into any other orifices?
Me: Why yes, I have.
I.F.: Really, where?
Me: Well, let me just say that it would take less time if I were list the orifices in which tubes haven’t been inserted.
I.F.: Oh. . . ew.
Me: No kidding.

Happy Halloween!

I have a goddamn confession to make.

Well, actually, I’ve already made it.

Son of a. . . .

Last night while sitting at home folding the laundry (yes, I lead an incredibly exciting life) I caught part of a program on TV featuring various talento competing to come up with the best excuses for getting out of sticky situations. The talents, grouped in teams of three, faced off against the quick wits of the host, punch-happy comedian Shimada Shinsuke, and all submitted answers were ranked in terms of believability by some sort of university professor “expert” with a bad haircut.

Now, seeing as uwaki (cheating) seems to be quite a popular activity in Japan, many of the situations dealt with husbands being questioned by their wives about some sort of suspicious behavior or discovery. Perhaps one of the best suggested responses came from Shimada himself concerning a situation involving a man who had been seeing another woman every Wednesday after work suddenly being asked by his wife why he had recently been coming home late on Wednesdays.

So, what’s the best thing to say to your wife to explain your unusual schedule as of late? Give her a wink and say, “Honey, you’ll find out on your birthday.”

Eeeevil.

Of course, after using that line you’ll have to go through the trouble of actually planning something special for her birthday, but at least you’ve warded off the discovery of your affair for the time being.

“The lipstick?… Uh, you’ll find out on your birthday?”

I called in sick to work today, something that I am extremely loath to do since it’s a waste of a completely good day of nenkyu that could otherwise be used to do something fun.

I used to love autumn and the transition from summer, but over the past six years or so I’ve consistently fallen ill at this time of year and I’m now coming to dread it. It’s especially annoying this year with my wedding now only two months away. Unlike most brides-to-be (including my own) who worry endlessly about losing/maintaining their weight in order to fit into their wedding gown, I’m terrified that I won’t be able to gain any in time for the big day so I don’t look like the scrawny little boy I resemble now.

Oh well, here’s hoping the NyQuil I just received covertly in the mail last weekend will do the trick and I can get back to hopelessly stuffing my bony face with food.

This morning my company sent out a memo announcing that a new file server has been set up to soon replace the one currently in use. I’ve mentioned before my company’s affinity for the word “global” and their propensity to attach it as a prefix to just about everything (Sales Dept. = boooriiing; Global Sales Dept. = THE FUCKING R0X0R!!!11shift), and this is no exception. The new server has been christened the “Global File Server,” or “G-File” (on a whole new level) for short. Amusingly, the name is a bit of a misnomer, as the server is not actually accessible from outside the company network, let alone from outside of Japan.

And yes, in case anyone is wondering, the irony was completely lost on everyone in my company. They’re all proud of how kakkoii (cool) it sounds. I guess “Internal File Server G” doesn’t have the same flare.

I was watching a bit of the London Hearts special on TV Asahi last night when I happened to catch a commercial advertising a new line-up of Chinese-style dishes at Mister Donut featuring none other than Lazer Ramon, aka Hard Gay.

Sadly, Hard Gay doesn’t actually appear in the commercial, nor, to my even greater disappointment, is there any thrusting of pelvises in the 15-second spot. The commercial merely features Hard Gay’s notorious “WOOO!!!” accompanying visuals of family members being literally “blown away” by the new menu.

It’s even lamer than it sounds.

However, anyone bored enough to actually want to watch it can simply click below.

[WMV, 595KB]

After an incredibly exhausting week at work, it’s always great when you walk out of the office on Friday evening and know that that you have the entire weekend ahead of you to relax, hang out with friends, pursue hobbies and burn effigies of ex-girlfriends who left you because they couldn’t handle your overwhelming manliness (*cough*). Anyway, despite my high hopes for this past weekend — especially since it was the one three-day weekend that my company affords us scummy, miserable employees — I ended up being nearly as busy as I was at work in the five days preceding. Judy and I had an entire list of things to accomplish both in and outside of the house, and in the end we were left with very little time to kick back and be the lazy bastards that we are wont to be (okay, that I alone am wont to be).

Well, in betwixt the numerous chores and errands, Judy and I found the time to cash in on the many points that we have accumulated over the past four years with our respective mobile phone carriers (DoCoMo for me, Vodafone for her) and get new cell phones. Completely ridiculous, I agree, but with the points and other various discounts, I ended up paying next to nothing for my new phone, and Judy literally did pay nothing for hers. Pretty sweet deal, although completely and utterly frivolous.

For the sake of absolutley nothing in particular, I took a [very half-assed] photo (edited to remove wear) of the three phones that I have used during my time in Japan, below. The one on the right is the newest — ain’t it purty??

I’ve been working a lot of overtime recently. I was the last person to leave the office every day last week, and if today was any indication, I may be the last one every day this week as well. In the days leading up to a big business trip to North America by the top management, there’s always a ton of correspondence, presentations and all sorts of other documents that need to be translated into English, which means that I, presently the sole native English speaker at my company, have to translate and/or proofread all of it. At least they’re leaving at the end of this week, so hopefully I’ll be able to take it easy for a bit after that.

About a year ago, I wrote a post on this site about a manager at my company who came back to Japan after a year in the U.S. shamefully addicted to Coca Cola. Well, as it turns out, he was eventually able to miraculously overcome his addiction, but not before spreading it to several other people in the office. How the heck does one “spread” an addiction? Well, seeing as he’s a pretty high-ranking manager and therefore gets whatever he wants, he requested that our office start stocking cans of Coke for the employees to drink. Sure enough, two days later, the first in what would become a steady stream of deliveries arrived.

Since that fateful day, I have watched several of my coworkers succumb to this ravenous addition. They can be frequently seen furtively leaving their desks at intervals to head to the kitchen area for a fix of 160ml of fizzy, sugary goodness, often going through 4 or 5 cans a day each. I wish there was something I could do to help them, but to confront them directly would be madness! I am but one man. . . .