Computing and Commuting... with Beer!

In fact, I am actually committing a major cultural faux pas as I type this. Drinking beer while in transit is an activity that, by North American standards, falls somewhere around farting in front of your girlfriends parents. No, make that farting in a cupped hand and then putting that hand directly in your girlfriend’s father’s face. Heh.

Unfortunately for Japan—but fortunately for you, dear reader—I happen to love messing with people’s cultural expectations. The Japanese, on the other hand, happen to exhibit that peculiar blend of awe, admiration and disgust that is a uniquely Japanese reaction to crazy white people.

To put it all in a phrase… hmmm…. That’s a challenge. How about this:

Please buy our cars, cell phones and technology. We will be happy to litter our streets with the worst filth of America, particularly the food (McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Starbucks and Baskin Robbins are the ones that come to mind first.) We, the Japanese, hereby promise to integrate English words, if not necessarily in the same pronunciation, order or spelling. Multiculturalism, however, can suck our Japanese cocks.


Yeah… its fun here.

(topic change!!!)

So, I actually got some feedback about my lessons the other day. Apparently there have been a few complaints. Hrmm..

People who know me: Any wagers about the most common one??

Yeah… I’ve been talking too fast.

On the other hand, apparently students also think that I’m a fair bit of fun, and a damn sight better than the last guy. So, I have installed large yellow SLOW DOWN letters on the wall behind the students, and this seems to have fixed the problems. My dear boss also informed me, in no uncertain terms, that he would be dropping in for much drinking with yours truly, because he happens to enjoy that a great deal more than he does keeping my massive ego within reasonable Japanese proportions.

I am rea

…

That above was the point where two good friends burst from the train to scoop me, my laptop and my bag up and charge back onto the express before it sentenced us to a cruel, cold five minute break. We went drinking and to an arcade.

But not just any arcade – the greatest arcade EVER. $4 an hour gets you unlimited no-extra charge arcade games, including batting cages, soccer kicking, pitching, floor hockey, air hockey, pool, internet, comics and a partridge and a pear tree. You do need a free membership, though, so I registered with the proper spelling of my name, ‘in Canadian…’

“Burento Pimpo”

Heh… can’t wait for the junk mail.