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?”
Uh, sure you do
I made a lot of mistakes with Saki, my first Japanese girlfriend. The most notable of which was attempting anything resembling a conversation.
“So you said you’ve got a sister, right?” I asked. “Does she live in Tokyo too?”
“I think so, maybe.”
“Well, when did you last see her?” I continued.
“Huh. Okay…well, um, does she live by herself? Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Mmm,” she said, “I’m not sure.”
“So you don’t know where she lives then, your sister?”
“Mnnnn,” replied Saki, “maybe Chiba?” Continue reading “I want a Japanese Girlfriend”
Japan’s a never-ending list of woulda, coulda, and shoulda’s. And chart-topping that vertical-ruled kanji notepad is: Shoulda remembered how I felt about Disneyland.
But hey, hindsight’s 20-20, Mickey Mouse. Go on wit’ yer oversized hands.
Living in Japan
When I first got to this nation, everything was amaaazing. I sat in Starbucks overlooking Shibuya scramble and marveled at the 4-way confluence of humanity weaving its way across Tokyo. Somehow I found myself talking to a cute girl with orange hair from Korea and we took polaroids together. Then a couple of beers later, the bronze statue of Hachiko the dog, a random hostess bar, dancing in Gas Panic, weaving drunkenly through seas of neon and Chinese prostitutes until finally eating bowls of glowing ramen in some ramshackle late-night noodle shop. It was brilliant. Continue reading “Living in Japan Forever”
A reader recently asked: should I move to Japan, or Norway? I get similar questions a lot, and I think we all know the answer.
Okay, first off, Norway’s great if you like cross-country skiing, hats with horns, and wood. On the other hand, Japan might be your spot if you enjoy wearing bathrobes with swords, eating Cup-o-Noodles, and riding tiny bicycles. But either way, none of that matters, and I’ll tell you why.
Dating Japanese Women
So last year, I was dating a couple of ladies. Let’s just call them, um, Satoko and Emi, since those are their names. And things finally got to the point where going out for two Christmas dinners to Kentucky Fried Chicken and giving two sets of White Day chocolates got to be a bit much, and I decided to make a choice. Continue reading “Should You Move to Japan?”
“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”