Monday, June 26, 2006

Wicked Pics Round Up

So, I am still procrastinating my 24 hour adventure. It's about half written, but today I opted for massive amounts of biking instead of writing. So, you get a placeholder post as a reward for being more dilligent as a reader than I am as a writer.

Ok... hold on to your english skills... here we GO!


We start our journey at a humble ketchup bottle. This company has no excuse for putting strange English on packaging, as they are American enough to sponsor the thinking (aka "losing") side of the last US Presidential Election.

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Then again, if the label is true, this might be the best bottle of ketchup ever invented! Not only is it more than one bottle, it's FOREVER FULL! Sweet!


Next, we come to a sign that isn't strictly Japanese, but it *IS* on the door of my co-worker's classroom. She's both Japanese and Hilarious. Also quite sketchy, which I appreciate.

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English here is often mistaken for a language that is intended for Native English Speakers. It is not. Here in Japan, it is custom tailored to Japanese sensibilities. For example, this coffee shop seems interesting, but surely sounds like a wonderful time...

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Whatever "Classic Mood" is, it sure sounds Classic!


This next sign isn't funny so much as it is either a) an everyday occurance if you live in Japan or b) mindboggingly insane if you've never been here.

This is a picture of the departure board in a station called "Shin Yurigaoka". It's a decent trek further into the suburbs from where I life. If it was in Toronto, I would give the neighbourhood a label like "Newmarket" for size and distance. Its pretty far out of town, but has enough stuff to be self sufficient. In the average suburb, how much time has to pass for three trains to leave one platform. Ok... now imagine Japan. A bit more crowded, so drop half your estimate.

I bet you're still way off. Check out these departure times.

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The next train after the 1:22 train was 1:27. Sweet Amazing Transportation Awesomeness.


And, what would a post be without my absolute FAVOURITE grammar fun. I'm beginning to realize that while "grammatically" incorrect, for fun factor, using "Let's + Noun" might be the most enjoyable bit of language that I've seen in ages. Try it at home and see how much fun it is!


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Let's Posting! Let's Drinking! Let's "Let's"ing!


Finally, I would like to share a bit of work awesomeness with you. Apparently, we have a school website. My manager likes to change the pictures every month, and also use my picture on advertising (who knows why...). Basically, my face is on so much correspondence that if I get trashed and start high fiving people (again) or ... someone finds this blog... then we may be in serious trouble. Anyway, until that day, here's my official e-first impression. Be sure to note that I "shaved with my electric" that day.

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Notes:

Teresa Heinz is married to John Kerry, who lost the last US Election to George "oil crusade" W. B. Bill Clinton once remarked on a television show called "The Daily Show" that "...democrats win when people think", and I happen to agree with him. I'm not saying that Clinton's party has all the answers, but they seem from afar to have....

Ah hell. you didn't come here for politics. Google it.

Newmarket is a wealthy north Toronto suburb. Shinyurigaoka is a relatively wealthy west Tokyo suburb. Newmarket has more soccer moms, but Shinyurigaoka has bigger buildings.

To my superiors, who may or may not read this: I can assure you that I immediately ran to the washroom and shaved after being photographed for the last picture.

...

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Problems and Solutions

Problem: I have no furniture!

Solution: A dear friend of mine is donating a couch to the cause of my continued sketchiness, so I am a rather happy fellow! The only problem is the simple fact that I can't fit a couch through the train access gates, so I have to find other means to transport it.

Problem: A moving company is a good call, but they sadly charge about 25000 yen, or $250, for the perilous task of driving the couch for 10 minutes. I wish there was a cheaper way!

Solution: Renting a truck is much cheaper: about half the price!

Problem: This requries a Japanese Drivers' license.

Solution: Get a Japanese Drivers' license. And forward this logic to MENSA for review.

Problem: My Japanese is limited. While I could probably pass a driving test with flying colours, I have to understand directions to follow them.

Eg:

Instructor:
この場所で左に曲がりなさい. ("Turn Left Here", according to Google Translate, anyway.)
Brent: What? Accellerate to 85km/h and tip the car up on two wheels to get away from Smokey???
Instructor: ああああああああああああああああああああああああ!!!!(AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!)


Solution:
The Canadian Government has a deal with the Japanese government. You just fill out the proper paperwork and swap the licence for a brand new Japanese place!

Awesome!


Problem: I can't find the building where I can fill out the proper paper work.

Solution: Go to the closest train station. Get lost a lot. Wave you hands at the locals to pretend that you are changing gears while making car driving sounds until they clue in and point you in the right direction.

Problem: This isn't working. You are still very lost.

Solution: Find a nice lady, who will give you very helpful advice!

"See these raised strips on the sidewalk? Follow them. They lead to the Drivers' License Building."

Problem:
.... uh...

...

Solution: FIND the driving place by following navigation strips for BLIND people.

...

Problem: The desk for foreigners is closed. The hours and the service are very helpful.

PROBLEM: The "Service" is a curtain across the window and a big sign that says "NO ONE CAN SPEAK ENGLISH HERE. BRING AN INTERPRETER."

I realize that expecting people to speak English in a non-English country is a close minded and ridiculous thing - and the Japanese certainly do a fair sight better with English than I do with Japanese.

Still. Its the FOREIGNER SERVICE DESK.

PROBLEM: The hours for the desk are as follows:

8:30 am - 9 am
1:00 pm - 1:30 pm.


You could almost imagine that they don't want foreigners to get licenses. Imagine that!


We're still stuck here, but hopefully a good solution will emerge soon.

...


Unrelated note:

Problem: I have been putting off a post about a 24 hour party on the weekend before last.

Solution:
POST PREVIEW PICS!!!


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You know, if I was ever going to have a story contest, I would want it to be how you managed to link these four pictures together given "BRENT" as a common denominator.



Notes:

MENSA - a society for really smart people, like Stephen Hawkwing and Asia Carerra.

Smokey - From "Smokey and the Bandit" - which involves a lot of car chases. Smokey was a cop. The role of "cop" in the world of "wild car chases" is an often overlooked dramatic role that allows a lot of introspection and tire spinning -t hings that don't often go together.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Unscathed

A lot of cities seem to have a little corner that embodies a certain stereotype. This stereotype can be either a good caracature or a bad one, but it seems to consist of a large number of people looking for an experience that they read about in a guide book, or heard about in a movie, or just read about on some over-hyped website (like this one).

Often, this place is built based on tourists and locals who enjoy parting them with their money. Amsterdam, for example, has "The Red Light District" - one of the most famous drug and sex filled places on earth. Though it may be full of prostitutes, weed, banana shows and who knows what else, the portion of dutchmen who head there to get a "fix" (of whatever kind) is probably fairly small. I suspect that most opt for local banana providers.

Edinburgh has the Royal Mile, which is really only populated by mad amounts of transients during the annual theatre festival, but they certainly manage to jam all the insanity from 52 weeks into about 6 by spreading said insanity over multiple venues.

Now that I'm finished with my really gross generalizations that did little beyond steal away some of your life, we can get to the heart of what I am rambling about.

Tokyo has a certain area that embodies a certain stereotype about Japan. This is the part of town where the foreigners go to play... Business, fashion, music, drinking, more drinking and even more drinking. Hostess clubs (aka either "dry humping bars" or "straight up whorehouses") abound, and the place is a beacon for highly fashionable and highly questionable people.

The other thing, beyond morally bankrupt foreigners, are legions of Japanese folk who have opted for the "fascination" part of the "disgust/fascination/horror" that many of the locals reserve for the average Westerner. People who want to meet and party with foreigners come out in droves.

The crowd is young, hip, trendy and unconstrained by a social moral code founded in puritanism.

It's called "Roppongi". I like to call it "disastertown" or "hell".

Inevitably, the free flowing beer ends up costing an arm and a leg, and the "all you can drink" always has a hidden catch. You can dance all night, any night, at one of the countless typically named dance caves (eg "Yellow" or "Let's Improper Usage!").

Don't get me wrong - its a crazy party town, and I am certain that there are countless highly interesting and wonderful places to enjoy in Roppongi.... But, I haven't done my research. I just tagged along with whoever has foolishly planned the night.

While stories abound, I will share just one thing with you:

When you are in Japan, you can influence your dance surroundings far more strongly than in a Western club. All you have to do is act crazy, and dance crazy. Sure enough, with a few high fives and the odd smile, you can convince nice Japanese girls and boys to VOGUE to trance music.

More stories may or may not follow. For now, it's enough that I'm alive and writing after dragging my smashed but sober self through the door at 7:30 am.

It is, most certainly, bed time.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Even the signs are sexist

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Gentlemen,

Remember that the only people who should be changing diapers in the men's room are the bitches.

Let's sexism.

with love,

japan

Friday, June 09, 2006

Who's twisted?

 
Apparently, I have a bit of a filthy mind at times.   

In related news, the sky is blue, young people today are out of control, and that kettle over there is black.
 
Yes, I know that this has come as a shocking admission, but I have to admit that I do scrape the bottom of the comedy barrel from time to time.  Basically, in an attempt to make you chuckle, dear reader, I sometimes stoop to the level of closing a rhyme with “poop”.
 
In any case, Japan provides a great many opportunities for unintentional hilarity.   
  
“Sorry for coming on your shoe.”  (Sorry for stepping on your foot.)
 
And…
 
“Sensei, you go in and you go out, but do you go down?”  
 
spring to mind as examples where I am clearly not directly responsible for the filthificaiton of my surroundings.  
 
 
Yet sometimes the comedy is seemingly the intention of others…
 
For example, I don’t think anyone anywhere can imagine that this three foot tall, mentally challenged flower child bear from the sixties could be taken in a purely artistic way..
 
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In short, let’s think about the fact that someone took the time to highlight the front surface of his baseball sized gonads in a lighter colour, just in case we didn’t notice that he was dragging those very love batteries on the frakking ground.  I’ll also award bonus points for making him look like he’s been banished from the short bus for excessive optimism.
 
 
 
On the other hand, there are examples where I leap to the foulest possible re imagining of any given situation. For example, I noticed such as a reference to a “Meat Market” in a textbook.   Most people think “I suppose you could find pork there”.    I, on the other hand, think, “I suppose you could find someone to pork there”.   I can’t even give my own definitions without interrupting myself (dammit, I just thought “interrupting…that’s like coitus interruptus!!!! How can I make a joke?  I know….!  I’ll interrupt myself and make a joke about coitus interruptus….!!” As I wrote that…) to make dirty jokes.  
 
Fortunately for you, dear reader, the internet has not evolved to the point where I can capture the twisted land of fart joke puns that I live with every day, except as this pale electronic copy which exists primarily to create similarly pitched groaning in as many nations around the world as possible.   Unfortunately for you, it still allows me to lose myself in rambling sentences that take us farther off topic than anyone ever guessed way back in the good old days, when you were lucky enough to spot capital letter doing something wacky – like starting a new idea.

Perhaps this is why my favourite word has recently become “Anyway...” It's great! It lets me just trail off and bring you back to my original point...

Anyway...

Sometimes I see funny signs, and I realize that they are only funny because I am endowing them with some sort of horrible ulterior motive. Take this fantastic example, which I received from a fellow fan of “Let's Advertising!”

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What's your first response? Cleaning? Brushing your teeth? Perrier?

Mine was: Haha! That'd make a great title for a Japanese Drag Show!

Regardless of the Nature/Nurture debate, my parents still seem to have taken a major wrong turn. Perhaps it was the 2 week vacation to Kansas during that crucial “instill shame in child so that he/she doesn't become a cultural menace” stage.

In any case, sometimes the truth falls somewhere in between, as with this example...
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Hopefully, the train of thought most of you are working on – as decent, upstanding individuals – is somewhere around this:

Hmm... If a bar could create a happy life for me, that would be a great thing. This is probably not true, but it seems like a nice idea.

I on the other hand, immediately started cackling. Unfortunately, I was in an elevator with six students, so I couldn't explain myself. But I had to laugh. While I doubt that most of you are interested in Life Creation right now, you probably enjoy going through the motions of “Happy Life Creation”, or HLC!!! as it shall henceforth be known. After all, that sure beats the hell out of “Pity Life Creation”, “I have a headache, so I don't feel like Life Creation tonight” or even “Drunk, Dirty Talking Life Creation”.

Then again, I am now officially at least 40% more likely to include “Let's Make Up Life Creation” in future smutty talk in the bedroom AND the restaurant.
 
 
 
 
 
Helpful “Being John Malkovitch” type access to Brent’s Brain:
 
Filthification: is not helpful, nor is it a word.  It comes from sticking “Filth” with the word fragment “ification”, also used in such words as “classification” (the process of classifying) or “desertification” (when things become like deserts. Not to be confused with “dessertification”, which involves adding sprinkles and chocolate ice cream to main course type foods). Anyway, don’t learn this word. 
 
Frakking: a politer euphemism for “fucking” that was rendered pointless by this definition.  Its use is also hard evidence that I have been watching sci-fi lately.
 
The Short Bus:  Mentally challenged/developmentally delayed children were often driven to school on a smaller bus that picked up only children with special needs.   Often called “the Short Bus”. 
 
To Pork: A verb, referring to the same thing as “Frak”. See above.

Coitus Interruptus: (1) the “pull-out” or the “withdrawal” method of birth control. Sometimes known as “The Catholic Method”. (2) The main reason why so many Catholics have Happy Life Creation when they are seventeen. (3) a very inneffective manner of birth control. (4) Oh... just look it up, you pervert.



From previous posts:

1) Evil, undefined words in the “defining the words” section:

Lexicon: particular vocabulary for a subject, or "slang".


2) Solving for X in the following equation.

X = Geoff Sensei + Guns 'N Roses - Pre-recorded vocals.

As far as our team has been able to determine to date, X looks something like this:


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The Team here at MerryManJapan is investing a lot of time and effort in locating better observational equipment, which hopefully will be able to reproduce “X” in greater fidelity.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Ma-ma Cherry: A biking, dancing adventure with a basket full of 3D morals.

As you may or may not remember from my previous “Lets Bicycling” post, I am the proud owner of a sweet Japanese ride. I use this slick, stylish bicycle to cruise around town, impress the ladies and generally draw envious stares from all those nice people in their “cars”. Suckers.

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I’ve been riding my slick basket-bike to work for about a month now, which amazingly takes me about the same amount of time as the train once walking to the station and waiting are factored in. This is a good thing, because I am getting exercise – something I have been told is great for curing I-have-a-fat-ass-itus. Also, if I leave one or two minutes later, it doesn’t translate into ten or twelve minutes later on the other end (because I missed the train). The only down side of this particular “you can leave later and not be late” equation is that I am becoming increasingly cocky. In fact, last week, I actually managed to leave for work exactly 11 minutes before I had to punch the clock or earn certain mild disapproval from my superiors. I made it with about 38 seconds to spare.

If you work with me (for example, as my boss), the last paragraph had a few typos in the last sentence. It should have read “In fact, last week, I actually managed to leave for work exactly 11 minutes earlier than usual, because I want to earn certain wild approval from my superiors. I made it with about 38 minutes to spare.”

In any case, my bike has become a source of endless glee over the past few weeks. This glee comes partially because I am feeling pretty good about riding around by the river for 2-3 hours a week, but mainly because I found out that the Japanese call a “Basket Bike” a “Ma Ma Cherry”. I suspect it comes from “Mama’s Chariot”, but I could be entirely wrong. In any case, I think I am actually rather hilarious to the average Japanese person during their morning commute or their evening walk by the river. You see, despite the fact that this thing looks about as cool as Richard Simmons at a Scientology NOW! convention, I can get it moving at a pretty sweet clip. And seeing a large white dude peddling a one speed bike like a madman is funny anywhere, even without a basket full of groceries mounted in front of the handlebars.


I don’t know how many kilometers per hour I can do on my one speed of wonderfulness, but I do regularly pass other people on bicycles. Oh shut up. YES… people going the SAME way as me. Anyway, passing people is the best part: I ring my bell at them, and they turn around with a really confused look on their faces. Before they can get over their shock/xenophobia/horror/fascination/arousal/indifference, two hundred and something pounds of large, panting foreigner (and a roomy basket) barrel past.

It’s so sweet, especially because at midnight – when I usually ride – the only people out biking are relatively interested in exercise, or potentially a bit drunk and on the way home. In either case, I make for a surprising addition to their night.

While there have been small moments of hilarity here and there, the best one was most certainly a random dance party that I managed to find.

Yep, you read that right. I found a dance party while I was out biking.

So, I was about a thirty minute ride from my house, peddling along by the tama river (多摩川), when I happened to notice some odd flashing lights under a bridge. I pulled into the parking lot, and saw some blankets that seemed to be lit up by…. Black light and flashing spotlights??

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I pulled over and stopped the music I was listening to, and found my ears greeted by …. Drum and Bass?

“Strange,” thought I. “Strange sounds on a weeknight…”

I biked a little closer and stopped for a few minutes to look over the scene. About twelve Japanese people in dark clothing were twisting and grooving to a fairly fat bass line, under the train bridge.

At this point, I was faced with a titanic social dilemma: What to do next?

On the side of “Don’t Bother The Nice Party People”, the following arguments surfaced:

1) I don’t speak very much Japanese. Things might get confusing.
2) I’m mid-exercise. I should keep working out, not go looking for trouble.
3) Dude, its TUESDAY. You don’t need to go raving.
4) SERIOUSLY. It’s TUESDAY night. GO HOME.

On the side of “What the hell! Go Dance!” the following points suggested that a “Go Dance” policy would be the correct one for the current administration.

1) Dancing is fun.
2) Yes, even on Tuesday.
3) You’ll kick yourself for chickening out later.
4) Baaaawk bawk bawkbawkbawk!!! (making flapping sounds) BAwwwk bawk bawk!!
5) Oh yeah… they’re musicians. Your random musician friend David will be mildly disappointed that you skipped the chance for random dance because your stance was not entranced!

Of course, the entire debate was actually rather pointless. You see, I am actually a very morally unique person. Where most people have a moral spectrum, with “good” on one end and “bad” on the other…. I am actually blessed with a triangle – three dimensional morality, if you will.

It looks something like this:




Good<-------------------------------------->Bad
..\.............................................../..
...\............................................./...
....\.........................................../....
.....\........................................./.....
......\......................................./......
.......\...................................../.......
........\.................................../........
.........\................................./.........
..........\.............................../..........
This will make a hilarious story later.


Many of the wacky things that I do that fall into the “dude, that was a terrible idea” category (being sport humped by a drag queen, bungee jumping while within .5kg of the maximum weight allowed by said bungee, and most of three days I spent in Amsterdam spring to mind….) are actually much closer to the “This will make a hilarious story later” part of my moral code.

And clearly, interrupting a healthy bit of exercise to go weekday drum and bass raving with random people I don’t know while wearing a bright red t shirt and shorts is clearly, CLEARLY well within the bounds of “this will make a hilarious story later.”

So, there you go. Knowing is half the battle.


So I danced with the nice people for about an hour. Their English was about as good as my Farsi, but large foreigners who dance with too much hand-motion are surprisingly welcome at random Japanese rave parties. They cheered, we all took camera phone pictures to immortalize the cultural hilarity, and they even pressed one beer on me. (They tried for more, but I’m not about to join my co-worker in “Drinking Bicycle Accident Land” – where she ended up about two weeks ago, along with most of two bottled of wine, six head staples and a fair amount of mockery from yours truly.)

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I maintain that the “bunny ears”/peace sign thing is at least 230% funnier than anyone gives it credit for.

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All in all – great times. The passing trains overhead on the bridge were even a wonderful addition to the pounding bass.




Helpful language for today!

Richard Simmons: a fitness expert known for his candy-striped spandex pants, large puffy hair, womanly manner and poorly titled videos (Eg, “Sweatin’ to the Oldies 3”). Although a cheerful man who has helped many, many fat people become much thinner, he is not often considered to be a fashion leader.

Barrel Past: To “Barrel” is a verb, in this case used to show that I pass people rapidly. Think of how a barrel would look if you tossed it into a fast flowing river or rolled it down a hill. It can’t exactly change directions, and it might be a danger to everyone, but it moves bloody fast. Swap out "Barrel" for "Brent" and "bloody fast" for "well, pretty quickly, I guess, all things considered" and you have a pretty accurate idea of what I look like while passing people on the bike path.

Raving: In your dictionary, it might say “yelling and drooling like a crazy person”, as in “John is a raving madman”. Here it means “to go to a rave, which is a dance party, and dance like crazy at said party”.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Deep Thoughts

For every visitor to Japan, there are a few interesting "must-sees" around the Tokyo Area. These include a few interesting buildings, a great many culturally unique shenanigan-filled adventures and a whole whack of famously beautiful shrines. I've done a fair numer of these "traditional" tourist things, so I always keep my eyes peeled for opportunities to be a cultural menace in a new and interesting way!

Geoff-fu sensei, in fact, is both a great source of heavy metal rocking out* AND a great source of weekend wandering adventures.


About two weeks ago, he dug up something very interesting: a caven about two hours northeast of Tokyo, in an area called Omiya or Oya, or something. All I remember is that the name ended with "谷", which is the same house-like kanji as one of my favourite places - Shibuya: 渋谷. I think that "shibu" means "Let's Party Here!" YA!!!

In unrelated news, I am still very excited about figuring out how to set the Japanese option on my keyboard.

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Anyway, the particular cave which we are concerning ourselves emotionally over at the current moment is a really cool place because of a very strange coincidence: Taking a lot of rock out of a mountain can make a very big hole. Since this mountain just HAPPENS to be a great source of building stone for houses, a rather big hole was made.

The "hole" or cave is so large, in fact, that Tokyo Dome can officially fit inside it. And by "officially", I certainly do NOT mean "one of the dudes we were walking with said it, so it totally must be true) And, in all honesty, there would have to be some chopping up to actually fit the sports complex down a mine shaft.

But still, its bloody big. 20 metres wide for most of the tunnels, and about 30 metres high. This is bloody big. You can use your imagination, or check out this shot of some nice people walking down the stairs.

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Yep, those little tiny people on the left.

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Here are some more pics. This place is huge... each of the side tunnels stretches out at the same height and width as the main shaft.

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To be honest, being underground in such a huge space is actually rather disconcerting: the scale seems not to fit into a human perspective. So, rather than paying 600 yen to gamely wander around a thrilling source of building materials, you actually feel like you are exploring something very different. I really wanted to say "alien civilization" or "long lost city", but I think doing that would be letting my "geek" show... So, I won't mention "alien civilization" or "long lost city" for the cave, because saying "alien civilzation" and "long lost city" would be weird.

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All in all, wandering around the cave was a really surreal. If you have a huge underground cavern that was used to build planes during the Second World War near your house, you should totally go.


Also in the (bksahblwa)ya area is a very large statue. From what I can tell, it seems to be a celebration of Cher.

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Like many things here in Japan, it is also being redeveloped to make it more efficient. In this case, part of a large hill that an ancient statue was carved in seems to be standing in the way of adding additional viewing areas for the ancient statue, so the hill is being removed.

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If there's anything that adds to my enjoyment of thousand-year-old art, it's definitely ten people with jackhammers.


Nonetheless, peacefulness was not lost just yet. We still had a beautiful, traditional shrine to culturally offend!

It was indeed beautiful.

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Best randomness: Instead of money, at this shrine, you leave sake! Here, you can see Lucas sensei ponder making a withdrawl...

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This shrine is also home to what I could only assume is the Japanese patron saint of pickpockets and chronic masturbators. I had no guide book, and the only sign I could read said something like "んO PIくテひRヨち".  There were a few japanese letters, though, so I didn't really understand.

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Anyway, if you ever go, be sure to tell the staff that I christened this depiction "E. Honda, Mid-Hundred-Hand-Slap: 1500 year old stone relief on 1500 year old stone." and that they can forward me back royalties dating to Nov 22nd, 743.... or so.





helpful idiom guide (aka - translating Brentnanigans into "English")

To Rock Out/Rocking out: a verb that helps describe the action/feeling of enjoying a rock music show. Often, approval for the artist is commonly expressed by pumping one's arms in the air while extending only the pinkie and the index finger. Thumbs are optionally extended or not. In internet lexicon, this act is sometimes described with " \m/ " becuase of its similarity to the shape of the universal sign language symbol for "rocking out". Incidentally, you should check back later, as we'll be solving the following equation: X = Geoff Sensei + Guns 'N Roses - Pre-recorded vocals.

keep your eyes peeled for - watch out for


More language help is available by request, threat or naughty innuendo.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Tips for you, dear reader

I just have two quick points to make. Unfortunately, I will be subdividing at least one of those points, so I can't really make any promises about how many points you will have actually been served with by the time we are done here. Ah, heck....Feel free to skip this post. I'll be relating a crazy adventure in the next post, I promise.


Point 1: If English isn't your first language, this is a bloody tough read. Why, you ask? Well... there are four main reasons.


1) Sadly, I often make really long sentences using a lot of fancy punctuation marks—like dashes, which I use to foolishly interupt myself soley to make stupid jokes—that make things more difficult to follow: this can make reading my blog frustrating, and make you hate me a lot of the time.

For example: About 85% of any post in this blog.


2) I make a lot of pop culture references. I liked cartoons as a child. Unfortunately, those cartoons were on TV in Canada during my youth in the 1980s, and you probably didn't see very many of them. This can make things difficult.

For example:

Me: Remember Rocket Robin Hood??? Remember when they ate one bite out of the same piece of turkey fifteen times, and then they shot rocket powered arrows at the Space-sheriff of Nottingham??!?
Canadians: YEAH! That was sweeet!
Ozzies, NSA people, etc: WHaaaT???
日本語(日本人?)/aka "J-folk": なーにー?!? (whaaat??)


3) I play fast and loose with grammar, metaphors, and all those whatchamacallitathingies... you know... werds.

Most native speakers bend and misuse grammar to suit their purposes. My purposes just happen to be totally evil and misguided, which means that my grammar is just along for the ride.
That bitch.


4) I am an idiot. If I made more sense, or behaved in a more mature manner, this blog would make more sense AND be more mature. Amazing.

For example:

Pooping! Pooopingpoopingpoooping!


So, if you are ever having trouble with any strange references, or you want to know what something means, please feel free to email me or post your question. I'll happily explain what the "H - E - Double Hockey Stick" I am talking about. Asking me to explain or clarify some language is definitely exempt from what I'll say in Point 2, below.

Which, umm.. brings me to point 2...


Point 2: If you email me encouragement (or discouragement) about the blog, I will probably make fun of you on the blog. So, you might as well just post your comment for other people to see.

For example:

Dear Mrs. Cross: Thanks for your comments!! I'm really glad that you are enjoying my adventures. I'm sorry that I called your son a slut. Perhaps if you'd disciplined him more regularly when he was younger, he might not be making himself so easily available to so many morally relaxed women.

Dear Karen: Thanks for your comments!! I'm really glad that you are enjoying my adventures. Congratulations on having such a flexible man.

Look how bendy he is, everyone!

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Way to go Karen!


This isn't to say that I don't appreciate any feedback - I REALLY appreciate it. I just happen to show affection through mockery....


At the end of the day, don't worry yourselves at all. There are PLENTY of reasons to be made fun of!

For example:

Falling asleep and/or staying asleep during any rendition of a song by Bon Jovi, The Offspring, or an 80s Stadium Rock Band is definitely grounds for mockery.

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Of course, sometimes photo evidence trumps any punch line that I can think of.