|
I
GO
TO
WORK!
--Kool
Moe
Dee
|
The
Recruit
Suits
|
April
truly
is
the
cruelest
month.
School
and
the
fiscal
year
starts.
As
the
last
sakura
petals
are
ground
into
dust
to
powder
footpaths
and
footsoles,
recent
graduates
realize
just
into
first
days
of
first
jobs
that
convenient
self-serving
schedules,
hard
late
drinking,
online
mah
jongh,
all-night
RPG
sessions
and
sleeping
through
classes
(when
they
bothered
to
show
up
at
all)
was
actually
the
worst
preparation
for
the
working
world.
The
party
stops
yesterday,
people.
For
further
research
try
Studs
Terkel
Working
or
perhaps
that
catchy
80s
tune
by
Godfathers
Birth
School
Work
Death
(all
you
really
need
is
the
title)
Congrats!
you've
made
it
3/4
of
the way
there!!!)
Gambatte!
|
Freshmen.
Made
Men...for
the
Green
Team
They
have
interviewed
together,
started
work
together,
will
continue
to
work
together,
drink
together,
forever
together
be
the
sempai
to
ensuing
April
Freshmen
of
all
years
to
follow.
They
will
drink
together,
do
kompa
together
new
crops
of
OL
(see
above
panels),
and
after
retirement
will
drink
and
visit
temples,
go
momiji
viewing
together
and
reminisce
together
as
OB
of
whatever
company
that
green
emblem
denotes.
|
|
Lived
on
the
Inside.
Seen
from
the
Outside.™
|
|
|
|
|
I
was
looking
for
a
job
and
then
I
found
a
job
and
Heaven
knows
I'm
miserable
now.
--The
Smiths
|
|
|
Another
stormy day
&
on
bike
I
pick my way to the
station.
As I twist down the old streets the wind off the lake changes,
sometimes
with and
other
times
agin me.
When
she's
at my back I hold my
kasa
umbrella
straight out
ahead
and
feel
the taut pull from the
spinnaker;
elsewheres I cant it off to a side and tack into the wind.
Today
the squall blows too strong to push the kasa
into
it & the rain too
soaking to
ditch
it
streetside, which is my first thought.
I take what seems an indirect route, wending through the old
town
as it does, w/ a number of turns. But I
learned
this
shortcut, the quickest & easiest path, from the
local
college students, the selfishest & laziest travelers.
|
This
broken
bitch
of
a
bird... 
had
to
stuff
it
here;
had
valuable
top-heavy
cargo,
storm
too
heavy
to
pilot
the
machine
still
clutching
it.
|
|
|
2.
Stuffed
in
the
front
basket
and
off
we
go,
wending
our
way
back
through
the
same
streets,
like
a
movie
watched
in
reverse.
More
unneeded
unloved
unwanted
plastic
&
metal
making
its
slow
way
to
the
Philippine
landfill,
a
lakeside
dumping
ground,
the
Pacific
gyre.
|
1.
I
knew
I
had
done
wrong,
and
went
back
the
next
day
to
find
it.
Here
she
is,
bent
twisted
abandoned;
mine.
(note:
this
action
occurs
before
red-bike
basket
panel
to
left;
sometimes
we
need
to
read
R
to
L
like
my
people
here.)
|
|
hey,
fluffy
bunny
ears!
keep
on
truckin'!
|
|
|
|
Sometimes
I
feel
like
I'm
the
only
guy
awake
on
the
whole
fckng
train...and
if
like
some
catastrophe
occurred
I'd
have
to
do
all
the
heroics...me
and
the
polka-dot
lady
with
the
1000yard
stare
up
there
a
few
panels.
|
the
human
head,
cantilevered.
|
|
Buddhism:
Use
Yourself
to
Lose
Yourself.
(an
elemental
and
unschooled
understanding
I
have
concocted,
likely
to
change
as
I
get
deeper
into
knowledge.)
|
a
lot
of
good
faux
animaux
gave
their
faux
lives
for
this
girl's
ensemble.
|
|
|
|
insanity
=
doing
the
same
thing,
expecting
different
results.
|
As
I
was
peering
into
his
shop
this
gentleman
came
out
to
invite
me
in.
Seems
to
be
a
high
quality
place
for
tempura,
called
Arima.
|
|
|
|
(+_<)
|
|
keeping
her
side
of
the
street
clean...
|
|
Your
beliefs
do
not
have
to
be
accurate,
they
only
have
to
be
useful.
|
|
centuries
of
getting
by
on
seaweed
and
rice...and
then
my
people
just
go
crazy:
The
Tower
Cheeseburger.
10
patties,
really
for
sale
at
Lotteria
hamburger
shops.
990
JPYen,
about
$11
US.
(Red-capped
human
frame
left
is
for
scale.)
Also
available
with
only
2
or
3
patties,
for
lightweights
and
sushi-fags.
|
a
white
geek
who
is
not
me taking
photos.
of
kyoto
tower.
oh
well,
we
all
got
to
start
somewhere. |
|
more
appealing
than
myself:
despite
my
animal
magnetism,
savoir
faire
&
cunning
charm,
she
remained
faithful
only
to
the
electronic
pulses
emanating
from
the
device.
(pertains
to
both
frame
right
&
below)
|
 |
|
 |
|
the
kind
of
things
you'd
see
in
the
parking
lot
of
Grateful
Dead
shows,
and
then
I
suppose,
Phish
shows,
once
that
migration
happened.
Disclaimer:
this
device,
of
African
origin
according
to
Jun
there,
is
quite
tricky
and
not
at
all
easy
to
get
the
rhythm
down,
esp.
getting
two
hands
going
at
once.
Not
saying
that
I,
in
a
hat
of
any
color,
could
do
any
better.
|
Jun,
a
cool
cat
&
artisan
of
the
street,
teaching
a
random
foreigner
how
to
work
clacking
hippie-balls.
the
blue-behatted
gentleman
was
not
a
particularly
deft
nor
quick
learner,
and
almost
took
out
an
eye
|
|
Bustled
over
to
this
seat
as
people
disembarked;
now
well-suited
for
two-fisted
cosmetology.
|
above:
free
warabi
mochi
samples
in
kyoto
station.
right:
a
small
shrine
where
I
stop
and
have
a
beer
on
the
way
home,
and
reflect
on
the
days
and
hours
of
my
life,
past
and
yet
to
come.
|
|
 
|
Hi.
Basically,
a
good
rule
of
Life,
don't
do
things
in
public
you
wouldn't
want
your
grandma
to
see
you
doing.
That's
why
you
feel
uncomfortable.
|
crunchy
colorful
delicious
Kyoto
pickles
tsukemono...free
samples,
Kyoto
Stn.
Root
vegetables
such
as
turnips
&
radishes,
chinese
cabbage,
cucumbers,
slim
Japanese
eggplant.
|
|
Praying
that
I
stop
taking
photos
of
her
booty,
Rokkaku-do,
the
"navel
of
Kyoto".
Rokkaku
translates
to
Hexagonal,
which
is
the
shape
of
this
venerable
temple.
|
A
reader
writes:
Hang
in
there.
Looks
like
you've
been
there
too
long.
Only
put
in
4
years
full
time
myself.
Now
it's
only
part
time
which
is
much
more
doable
except
for
the
flights.
Now
I'm
back;
20
miles
from
Dubuque.
-anaguma
On
the
contrary...I
have
only
just
begun
to
fight!
Thanks
for
stopping
by
and
please
continue
to
do
so.
Hope
you
enjoy
things
here
more...
|
|
Hey,
cute
iPod
girl.
Want
to
play
with
my
hippie
balls?
Jun
solicits
another
student.
|
eh!?
|
You
can
do
it,
child.
Just
take
them
like
this...trust
me,
here.
I'm
a
pro.
Jun
with
the
nurturing
touch.
The
assurance
of
the
patient
Master.
|
|
|
never
bet
a
man
at
his
own
game
|
|
keeping
stoked
the
flame
for
print.
|
|
|
these
macho
guys
&
their
girls
macho
couples
were
looking
all
points
of
the
compass...I
probably
could
have
helped
them
but
sometimes
I
just
don't
feel
like
engaging.
|
|
|
??
?
??
??
??
???
??
?
|
hey!
I
can
do
this!
|
|
|
|
pray
|
Yaezakura,
double-flowered
cherry
blossoms,
the
last
of
the
season
and
quite
stunning.
Like
packets
of
short-stemmed
baby
carnations.(Technically,
cherry
blossoms
containing
more
than
5
petals
per.)
|
|
|
refresh
my
memory...what
exactly
did
people
do
before
phones?
|
|
|
|
|
arrogant
self-absorbed
maladjusted
sociopaths choking
the
405,
five
lanes
thick.
only
moral
compass
is
that
dictated
by
the
fast
lane.
File
Under:
Why
I
Left
Los
Angeles,
part
7.
|
|
|
|
i
must
create
a
system
or
be
enslaved
by
another
man's.
---Wm.
Blake
|
|
Pull
in
about
72
cents
a
day;
so
in
months
that
have
31
days
we're
about
breaking
even.
Repeated
(and
heartfelt)
requests
for
this
group
to
give
us
anywhere
near
that
kind
of
money
have
gone
unanswered.
|
|
hard-slaving
cook
&
proprietor
of
the
small
sumibiyaki
charcoal-grill
shop,
woefully
disinterested
in
my
boy's
iPhone
phetish.
|
We
Cut
Heads.
a
little
unpaid
OT
at
the
local
hair
salon.
some
after-the-job
on-the-job
training,
as
it
were.
(shot
through
the
salon
window
at
about
9:30
p.m.,
wednesday
eve.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
fellow
readers:
if
you
like
this
site
please
spread
the
word
like
human
manure
over
an
Edo
Period
rice
field.
thanks.
doumo
arigatou
gozaimasu!!!
posting
a
link
to
this
site
also
much
appreciated
and
good
karma
for
you.
|
ready
for
action,
jackson!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
so
often
times
it
happens
that
we
live
our
lives
in
chains
and
we
never
even
know
we
have
the
key.
|
Blessing
the
rice
fields
2010
|
|
<<Back
11
|
12
|
14
|
15 |
16
|
17
|
18 |
19
|
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25
|
26 |
27
|
28
Next>>
|
