Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Let's Bicycling!

So, one thing I have to share with you is my favourite grammatical error. Apparently, in Japan, it is common practice to use the word "Let's" with whatever it is they happen to enjoy.

Unfortunately, the things they happen to enjoy generally are... well... things. and thus... nouns.

So... using "Let's" with a noun can be really fun. Think things like

"Let's Photography!"


Even more enjoyable is the use of "Let's" with a verb+ing. It's called a "gerund"... but I couldn't think of a way to make the definition funny. Just look it up on Google. Anyway.. the example is the best way to see it.

Let's Bicycling! or Let's Bowling!


My favourite, of course, has to be the use of "Let's" with a non word, or ... more specifically, with a word that is correct when put through spell check, but is CLEARLY the wrong word.

Here are my favourite examples.

For Sandwich Construction...
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And for advertising a portable computer...

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YES!



Anyway... that gets me to the real reason for this post: Let's Bicycling... or more specifically.... Let's Confusing and Let's Lost!

I managed to get out to my friend Geoff's apartment this weekend. It's about 20-25 min and two trains away. Being a good chap, some time ago he very nicely offered me an unused bike that had been laying around his apartment courtesy of the previous teacher. So, after leaving it languishing at his house for about three months, this weekend I picked it up and had quite the adventure trying to bring it back to my lovely home.

You see, if you didn't know this, Japanese streets lack anything that vaguely resembles logic or order. Taxi drivers get lost trying to get you home, so you can imagine how well this whole "navigation" thing goes for a clueless me in a strange neighbourhood moving at a brisk as-fast-as-I-can-fucking-pedal-my-fat-ass kilometres per hour. Basically, you get just as lost as as ever, but at three times the velocity.


So... anyway... I got very lost several times. I won't give you the gory details except for these.

1) It took me about two hours and change to get from his house to mine. When I declared how much working out it was for me, they told me that the ride should have taken no more than 45 min.

2) I went the wrong way on my way to work. This may sound stupid to you... until you try and figure out where the hell "north" is at a sixteen point intersection. It took me about 10 minutes of hard riding in the exact opposite direction before I realized my error.

3) the previous two incidents made me over cautious, and I decided that I was lost at a point that turned out to be about 350 metres from my home. Thus, I spent about 70 minutes biking in circles after 11 pm yesterday trying to find my home.

The frustration highlight of #3 above was when I stopped to ask a businessman for directions on the way home (yes, in japanese).. "I'm sorry....Excuse me, Where is Kuji Station on the Nambu Train Line??? / Gomenasai... Sumi Masen... Kuji Station no Nambu Sen wa Doko Des ka?" He looked at me for a few seconds, then turned away without a word and kept walking.

Let's Racism!

Boy oh boy... did I ever want to do two things realllly badly...

A) Yell some choice insults at him in Japanese.

B) Play the Race Card on my blog.


Ta---DA!

Friday, April 21, 2006

I peed blood. Nice to meet you!

So, I had quite the adventure two weeks ago. um… and I’m still behind, but I am trying to be semi regular in my latelarity. This way, when I have a particularly dull week, I can put up something like “There is no joy in mudville, mighty Brentey has struck out”. And then no one under the age of 24 would get it.

Sweeet.

This is, in fact, the kind of post that makes me want to dearly hope that my mother doesn’t read this blog. (and Mrs. Cross… you can feel free to skip this one… though your dry-as-a-kite-and-clean-as-a-whistle-prohibition-era-morality-observing son is certainly in no danger of any sort of lifestyle-related issues.

Other than syphilis, of course.

/I kid, I kid. He’s a good boy. We practice safe…uh… stuff.

//ok. Sorry Still kidding. Apologies to the entire Cross Family.


)

Closing brackets can be a challenge for me. I love to go out on sidebars, and I just forget them.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, the scariest thing that’s happened to me since coming to Japan.

It happened the same day I dropped Jess of at the airport. (which already put a SERIOUS downer on the day.) Enroute back to my apartment, I decided to hit up a bookstore in Shinjuku for a book on Japanese Kanji that I’ve been meaning to find. I spent a few hours looking for it, and during my wandering, happened to engage in one of my two most favourite forms of excretion, peeing.

Imagine my … excitement when I happened to pee the wrong colour.

Like, a very wrong, very red colour.

Being the health conscious person that I am, I thought to myself…” ok…this is bad. But maybe its just a … cut…??? Uh… ok… we’ll give it one more pee later today, and then if its … blood-y then we’ll… deal with it….”

And I promptly tried to put it out of my mind…


Later that day, after I met my good friends Geoff and Marc for dinner, I started feeling a pain in my lower left back. I thought it was milk in something I’d eaten, or the chair was funny or something, so Geoff and I set off for his school (about a 5 min walk).

During the walk, the pain went from mildly discomforting to horribly awful, and moved from my back to my entire left abdomen. I sat down to rest for a bit, leaned on Geoff, and basically stumbled my way to the bathroom near his school. Once there, I pissed some more blood, puked my guts out, and stumbled out to meet him at his school. Within about five more minutes I was lying on the floor in a ball of pain.

At this point, they decided that it would be prudent to call an ambulance.

The ambulance people were very, very nice, and also very unable to speak English. Fortunately, I was in a school where some people happen to speak both English and Japanese. We made it most of the way through the translation, including my stomach hurts… yes I am in a lot of pain…I can probably walk… etc.

The translation broke down when I started to say something like “my genital area”… she was like “your genitals hurt?!?!?” So I was like… no.. well..yes…but…no… ah… forget it. I’ll tell the doctors at the hospital.

After a quick ambulance ride, and the doctors (who also spoke about as much English as I speak French, which, for those of you that know me, is basic to say the least)…. Were very nice.

I was, however, in a great deal of pain. They fired me a painkiller and set out to do an ultrasound. One the way to the first magic machine of healthcare, the doctor asked how much pain I was in, after the painkiller, from one (no pain) to one hundred (when you first came in) to gauge how well the painkillers were working.

I answered “(grimace) ninety five!”

Please remember that I tip the scales at about 95kg, a wee bit larger than the average nihongeen patient. So he told me “Too Big! One More!” and fired me another painkiller for the trip. That brought me down to about ninety percent.

Finally… as they could tell from my face that I was still holding in some sort of reaction to the tearing going on in my insides (more on that later) they decided to pull out the big guns.

Too bad for me, the “big guns” of painkillers are NOT administered intravenously, but rather, rectally.

Yep. You read that right. It was time for a suppository. I said “ok” and expected them to hand it to me to deal with.

Nope.

Before I knew what was going on, the nurse rolled me on my side, whipped down my pants and ….

“NICE TO MEET YOU!” I roared at the top of my lungs. (Seriously. Word for word, that’s what I hollered.)

Within about two or three minutes, the pain subsided to about five or ten percent of normal. Not too shabby. When I was lucid, I turned to the doctor and said “She is a very nice girl.”

Grinning, he replied, “I want to study English at your school”.


So, after an X ray, various exams and an ultrasound, they managed to convey (using portable electronic dictionaries) that I have a stone somewhere in my bladder/tube systems. My dear Japanese co-workers showed up at the hospital to translate in more detail.

They explained that I have a small stone in my bladder area, which happens to be tearing/ripping its way down my various tubes, leading to lots of inflammation and a decent amount of pain. The doctor was a bit worried about the amount of painkillers they pumped me full of (Admittedly, I was spacing like it was 1968 when they explained the problems to me). Specifically, he was worried that I would stop breathing, so he offered to let me stay overnight in the emergency section.

Now, I’ve heard plenty of horror stories about patients in the US system going to the hospital for three days and being presented with a $30000 bill. So… I was really concerned about the price. Kaori (my coworker) explained that the doctor was actually worried about me, and there would be no charges for the overnight stay. (!!!)

/Sidebar: the grand total for the entire shebang, including an ambulance ride, ultrasound, x-rays, examination by two doctors and three nurses, overnight in the emergency, three Japanese people’s doses worth of painkillers and a monthlong prescription run of three different meds was…. $400! Not too shabby. The insurance company pays everything back within about a week and half.

Anyway… no major problems during the night in emergency. I drank lots of sweet saline over the night, and Kaori showed up in the morning to make sure that all was hunkey dorey. The doctor showed me some more x rays, etc, and wrote me a prescription.

As Kaori explained:

there are pills to dissolve the stone and help it come out through the usual bladder channels (D’OH), as well as two kinds of pain killers. Regular ones to take daily, as well as the stronger stuff. Its…. Oh… how do you say it…. Ummmm… Ass Medicine.

I spent a few days at home recovering in ranging levels of pain, but I am quite well now. Apart from being apprehensive, of course.

You see, I think (the translation never got that far) that I have a gallstone, the younger and nicer brother of the dreaded kidney stone. I have heard and read several times that passing a kidney stone is the closest a man can come to giving birth – as the stone basically has to rip its way down your urethra (I read an account written by a mother of three who had passed two stones). Anyway… even if this is “horrible pain junior” I am not looking forward to peeing out a rock.

Of course, if the pain gets too bad, I can always retreat to the bathroom and declare loudly how great it is to meet myself.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Hey, Hey! Ho, Ho! This Penis Party's Got To Go

If you can name the movie from whence the title of this post comes, then you are indeed, a wicked consumer of awesome 90s movies.

Anyway, I am still behind in my postings, so there is much drama to come. I remain committed to sharing my lunacy with all (both) of you, dear readers, so hold on tight.

One of the most infamous things to come out of "crazy japan", after tentacle porn and high definition TV, is the "Festival of the Iron Penis".

Yes, its actually called "the Festival of the Iron Penis" and if you've ever watched any shows with titles like "shocking asia!" or seen pictures of strange japanese girls riding 30 foot penises, well... it all comes from a one day festival held in Kawasaki on the first sunday in April. Legends vary, and are all poorly translated, but as best I can make out...

Many years ago , some demon got the hots for some girl. She wouldn't marry him, though, because she was a prude or he had BO .. or he was a demon... one of those. So, he secretly crawled up into her bizness (that would be "reproductive tract" for those of you keeping track). Now, this girl, sadly, decided that it would be better just to pretend this didn't happen and not tell her new husband about this little factoid. (I think theres a "disclose your STD status" metaphor there somewhere.)

Anyway, when they came to the wedding bed to consumate their marriage, the demon decided that it was Lorena Bobbit Time, and made short work of his wedding tackle.


<CHOMP!>

This of course, led to the dissolution of their marriage on grounds of "irreconcilable differences", and probably a healthy trip around the daytime talk circut. Some time later, she managed to get herself another man (who really, really needed to do his research and/or watch some cable TV). This guy decided to look before he lept though, and figured out that labia are not usually possessed of razor sharp teeth, no matter how rough your lady-gums are.

uh. sorry for that.

Anyway... this guy proved to be something of a genius, and fashioned what was probably the worlds first Big Ol' Black Dildo with which to go to work on his missus. The demon mistranslated the phrase "man of steel", and took it entirely out of context. Biting down on the iron rod, the demon promptly shattered his teeth and, by extension, demonsculinity. The young couple lived happily ever after, although rumours that he never really "got" to her G spot hounded our hero for the rest of his life.

Since then, people have decided that the penis has healing powers, and prostitutes used to frequent the penis to pray for protection from sexually transmitted diseases. After all, nothing cures syphilis like a good dicking, right???

Thus, to this day, many men and women throughout Japan celebrate this legend by sporting totally wrecked teeth...

er... delete delete delete....

Thus, to this day, many men and women flock to kawasaki once a year to clebrate the Iron Penis Festival.


In modern times, they have a rock band, sell penis candy and drink white-tinged (salty tasting...) sake.

Here are some pics for your enjoyment.

The Iron Penis is carried by Men in Drag, to represent the prostitutes of yore.

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Really.

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They also have this great pink one, in case you aren't sure what they're celebrating...

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This penis party also has some vendors selling things like suggestive, hand made candy.

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And clearly labled instruction manuals!!

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I can also tell you that the penis party had opportunities for me...

a 73% bigger erection for example...

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and a strange beverage that I will never speak of again (after making this image publicly available on the intarweb)

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In any case... I will leave you with a photo of a young japanese boy who is allowing himself to reach for his dreams...


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Cheers!

/ps - the movie you're looking for is called "PCU".

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Tidbits

Two quick funnies for ye:

1) Astro boy is everywhere, and together with his astro-biatch, he helps keeps bus stops safe from loitering!!!

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2) McDonald's, I have learned, is the proud owner of the slogan with the WORST mangling through Japanese Katakana pronunciation...

"I'm Lovin' it!" makes great sense... until you filter it through those pesky r and v oopsies.



...

"I'm Rubbin' it!"

Sunday, April 02, 2006

It’s a Japanese Tourist Trap, Yaaaarrrrrh!!!

So, I must apologize for the fact that I have not updated this blog in a great many days. I have been, shall we say, occupied. But more on those crazy sketchnanigans soon. Firstly, I would like to relate the hilarity of a weekend trip to one of the most famous (at least in Japan) tourist traps in the Tokyo area: “Hakone”. If you are a well-rounded enough person to have been reading this blog since day one, here is your first cookie: Hakone is about twenty minutes north of Odawara, where I dressed up as a samurai on another cultural adventure/disaster.

Anyway, Hakone is most famous for being a naturally beautiful place with a lot of hot springs in which J-folk (and their imitators, hangers on, English teachers and so forth) can enjoy a hot, relaxing communal bath. These are called “Onsens”.

There are also some really nice forests with some poorly designed stairs.

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A little background may be necessary, but feel free to skip the italicized bit, as it is far more historical than ridiculous, humourous, or even really that fun.

Historical Crap, as far as I can make out from my guidebooks and what I have invented on my own:

Running water came to Japanese homes sometime in the industrial era, but people had desired to be “clean” long before that. One great substance in reaching that “clean” state is water. And thus, in keeping with the communal spirit of Japan, people decided that getting naked with your neighbors was not only a great way to get clean but also a great way to catch up on local gossip. So, men bathed with other men, doing manly bathing in manly ways, and covering themselves with very small (and in modern times, purple) towels for modesty. Since I am a man, and therefore not party to any woman-bathing, I can only surmise that it involves frolicking in scented fountains and batting at each other with waterproof pillows. There is probably some gigging as well, but I can’t be certain without further research.

Anyway, the communal bath is seen as the great equalizer of society. Wealthy businessmen rub shoulders with chefs, students and blue collar workers. Being naked is also a great way to pick out gangsters (or “yakuza”) as they helpfully cover themselves in full body tattoos. So yeah… great way to get to know your buddies, is to get naked and jump into some hot baths—remembering not to splash anyone with any sort of “body art”.

/ Historical Crap, as far as I can make out from my guidebooks and what I have invented on my own.

Welcome back everyone who skipped the last paragraph. All you really need to know is that Onsen = hot indoor or outdoor bath for naked people.

There were three very interesting things to experience in Hakone. I’ll list them here in both chronological order and in increasing order of hilarity.

1) The Ryokan


Ryokans are “traditional Japanese hotels”… where a super-fancy dinner and a really tasty breakfast are included in the price of admission. These places also feature lots of handy recreation and fun stuff, like indoor and outdoor onsens, as well as a games room a disco and a karaoke area. (uh… we stuck with number 1). Anyway, you also get to wear these cool bathrobe thingies all the time. Relaxotastic! (uh... maybe toooo relaxotastic...with apologies to the really nice ryokan lady that took this shot.)


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The meal was also one of the tastiest and most varied that I’ve had a chance to enjoy since I got here. It was about ten small courses, including everything from sashimi to basashi (raw horse), and some various steamed dishes and odd root-y-vegetables. Cho BEERY good!

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2) the semi active volcano

This was pretty cool. There were huge sulphur clouds leaking out of steaming pools everywhere… the entire mountain area is a charred mess, and the few trees that grow around there have a weird red tinge to them. There are also lots of signs with helpful messages like “The urge for visitors embrace the natural earth and enjoying the hell-like landscape! Let’s Nature!”


Best sign:

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Anyway… at the top of the mountain, they have a hut that sells a six pack of BLACK eggs. The people at this famous little shack boil eggs in the sulphur-mud… they actually taste super wicked… almost like a hard boiled egg! Amazing!

From the Gondola:

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Black Egg Yumminess:

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The Mountain!

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3) The completely inappropriate water transportation.

Part of the circuit the Hakone area includes to get across the lake they needed a boat. I can only imagine that the geniuses at the Odakyu company thought to themselves…and ... well... we need a boat, right guys? … and we should have some sort of theme boat to help people enjoy themselves…. hmmm... what do people like... uh... they like... PIRATES!!!"

So, in true Japanese fashion, they built four huge pirate ship replicas with multidirectional propulsion. (yes, that’s right… these are pirate ships that can drive forward, backward and even straight sideways).

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They also have a few plastic examples of what native Japanese folk would have looked like, had they been traveling a small inland lake in Japan in the 1600s. Yeah… kind of like … French pirates…????

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Yaaarrrr..... it was sweet.