Last month, I went to Doctor Matsuda at my local Japanese clinic, because my shoulder was killing me.
“My shoulder,” I said, “is killing me.”
“Did the pain begin gradually,” he asked, “or all at once?”
“Rather suddenly,” I replied.
“Were you doing anything in particular when it began?
“Not really,” I said, “just carrying this girl to bed. And maybe I kind of tripped.” Continue reading “Are Japanese Women Stealing Our Testosterone?”
“Ah man, I’d love to have a few beers, but I promised Eriko I’d watch the kids.” This is my buddy, let’s just call him Joe, since that’s his name. He’s got two kids.
So then I Line’d Dave. His wife speaks English, so to protect his identity, we’ll just call him “Matt.” Kind of fitting, actually.
“Yo, tonight, beer?” I asked. I’m a man of few words.
“Let me check with the wife,” was Matt’s answer.
“Tell her it’s an emergency,” I said, “of the thirsty sort.” Continue reading “The Most Dangerous Animal in Japan”
Mei’s the girlfriend you’d love to have but can’t, because my buddy Yuki got her first.
She’s got big eyes, enormous boobs, long brown hair curled into ringlets, and an ass that’ll make you reevaluate your life. When Mei wears a sweater more people line up for a viewing than Star Wars. Is she smart? Who cares—-she’s too busy looking sexy and giggling to discuss quantum computing. Of course, Mei works in a Girls Bar. That just makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is why she’s with Yuki. Continue reading “What Japanese Girls Want”
I love Skype, if only because my brother can still drunk-dial me from the U.S., where it’s apparently nighttime, even it’s 5 a.m. in Japan and I’m fast asleep in my futon.
I answered Skype in the customary fashion.
“Yo, nigga,” I said.
“My nigga!” he said. This is how white people talk when black people aren’t around. “What’s happening?”
“I’m dreaming I’m still asleep is what’s happening,” I said. “I gotta go to some festival with this Japanese chick today.” Continue reading “The Japanese Festival I Never Saw”