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wild  sexy  fun  japan Lived on the Inside.  Seen from the Outside.  

 

F.ck but I hate clocks

I hate the monks who invented them, the Swiss that build them, the bureaucrats who serve them. I hate that we bend the rhythm of our lives to their metre.

When I am King clocks will be first against the wall (and maybe the creepy guy who scares the kids in our park).

another guy (actually gal this time) decides the morning rush hour is a good time to punch out on my train line.

and then, panic sets in...

we are all going to be late today.  you can see from the analog clock that the hands make out 8:02, and people have been piling up for the as yet unarrived 6:57 & 7:01 since about those times.

further down the line, at 9:30, people have given up waiting on the 7:46 and decide to walk the 63km to osaka. the red numbers on the right side of the board show how late each train is, in minutes: 90,100 & 85 respectively.

Have a Nice Day!

(congratulations on ripping out your family's heart and fcking up the workday of 100,000 people you selfish twat)

and it turned rainy...what with it being the season and all.

 

 

Etiquette Avenger

 

I am not a tough guy nor very confrontational, but I have an acute sense of justice and fair play...and sometimes, esp. if I see the weak being victimized, I snap.

in a packed train full of straphangers not one person said peep to this little otaku with his face buried in his PSP RPG, until I popped a couple pics & then had a couple words with him.

and the gentleman sits.

still waiting on the platform for the train. by now everyone has Kubler-Ross'd their way through all 5 stages & a becalmed acceptance perfumes the air.

 bosses have been called, secretaries informed, meetings cancelled, lives momentarily rearranged.

(> _ <)

 

this girl has an extraordinary ass...*

 

because she walks this long steep bank of stairs rather than ride that escalator to her left.

a word to the wise (and wide)

* this crappy picture doesn't do it justice. but the picture in my mind does. and you can see how her yellow T-shirt rides up on the high hard round cusp of buttock right.

 

 

 

 

 

(^  _  ~)

 

 

3 layers of girls, DoF* defuckingluxe, working their way from happy to sad.

...and a couple random knuckleheads who sit around train stations staring at girls & the creeps who take their pictures.

*Depth of Field, for non-photo terminology types. this term means that some (ideally important) area of the photo will be crisp and in focus, while other parts further or closer will be blurry. photo types cream themselves over this spectacular interplay of hard vs soft.

 

this cutie-pie won't let me carry my own beer to the car, but insists on doing it for me.

(actually her manager does, but still, good luck getting that service at COSTCO.)

equpt. tech note: dreamy bokeh of this photo due to 0.017 megapixel vodafone 1G cameraphone used to take it. like a HOLGA u can talk with.

 
I know I know I know, I should have listened when I was told.

 

fucking

word

 

gion (O_<)
Gion Matsuri festival is the biggest annual event in Kyoto, and one of the top festivals in Japan.

it combines centuries of history, tradition, lanterns, street food, street alcohol, sweat, wayward J-youth, immense crowds, cameras, and girls, in & out of yukata.

 

matsuri!

yo, dawg!  what up?

 

 

a profile of this girl staring longingly into my eyes...

 

 
 

 

 

and then, depression set in...

I shit you not...this is her boyfriend.

wtf could you possibly be looking at more wonderful than her?  Tetris cheat codes?

Revenge of the Nerd:

yeah, we're probably cooler, more stylish, tougher, sexier than this guy...but he's the one going to be crawling all over her tonight.

 

Geeks 1, Me 0

 

 

 

smile!

millions of cell phone photos were clicked off this past week.

come play my game i'll test you

no reason...

just a little taste of home. a blueberry banana smoothie... maybe got a little shochu in there. I forget.

 

take this advice. if you come to Japan to meet girls, the ultimate accessory you can sport is a head of blonde hair; borrow, steal or dye yourself some.

a pack of gallant lads, English speakers all.  my guess, based on attire & attitude, is college exchange students plying their trade* amidst the crowd.

 

*essentially, just showing up.

 

north-bound shaft-grabber

 

in the kyoto bus, to wherever she's getting off.

this would have been such

not all fun & gawking admiration for some blondes...

a soft drink vendorette, drained, late the last night of the matsuri.

every now and again she'd raise her eyes and give a half-hearted call for customers, then put her head back down to continue questioning every decision she's made in her life until this point.

really, I just wanted to give her a hug...but then her yakuza type BF would likely come & stab my eyeball out with a tattoo or something.

the girl across from me on the train.

wondering where it all went...an elegant older woman at the gion matsuri, essentially a young person's festival now.

The tradeoff:

 

many living things in this country that are not cute J girls are outsized, creepy, scary and can harm you.

This is a poisonous centipede mukade, now in 3 pieces, found under a flower box in the micro-yard. It was intact & in just one piece when I came across him & before I chopped him. N.b.: I absolutely prefer Live & Let Live; I am about to change my facebook Religious profile from Catholic--Tortured & Recovering, to Jain Dharma, the ancient Indian religion of total non-violence to all living things...but these terrors will get into the house, can kill a small rodent w/ their venom (try YouTube) and are uglier than the monster in Alien.

 

It Ain't Me Babe

A couple drunk salarymen, out on the town with their leader, pawing a gaggle of J-women, clearly anything but their wives: OL, new hires, sales staff & waitresses, etc., are about to use We the Gaijin to impress the ladies. The interface went like this:

Drunk Them: "Do you speak English?"

Drunk Me: "If you're paying." (Fully fckng pro Major League English Language Instructor that I am and all.)

D.Them: blink-blink sputter-sputter.

 End of Transmission.

It's (kind of) like the Doctor always getting asked for diagnoses by guests at cocktail parties & the like. I feel I give back to humanity. I click on the Hunger Site, usually when I feel hungry.

I'm already doing my part.

some goldfish...bagged in a traditional festival game of scoop the poor fckng goldfish. 

wondering just what comes next...hanging in a bag off a set of bike handlebars as some girls in yukata walk past.

 

Yes, that 's usually how it happens.

the beautiful irony here is that we are all waiting in line to get on the bus up the hill to a women's university.

get some & get it togethah!!!

 

 
cornered, the boy kicked out at the world
the world kicked back a lot fcking harder now.
(0 _ 0)   (x _ x)   (0 _ <)

 

 

look at my tittoo!

   

fellow readers: if you like this site please spread the word like human manure over an Edo Period rice field.  thanks.  doumo arigatou!

posting a link to this site also much appreciated and good karma for you. 

   
 

FWIW

in my opinion, on a bus to a Japanese women's college is in the the top 5 places on the planet a guy can look around & find himself.

the closest of friends for 3 minutes...

never to meet again...sigh.

 

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