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Japanese Rule of 7, the Book

Japanese Matsuri - Ken Seeroi's book

Ken Seeroi’s first book is finally here!

First of all, I want to thank all the readers of this blog for your consistent support over the years. Without your encouragement and, let’s be honest, incessant badgering, this work would’ve never been produced. It’s not that I’m lazy; I just can’t be bothered to get up before noon. That’s a legitimate medical condition–I submitted it to WebMD myself. Don’t hate on the disabled, is all I’m saying.

So what kind of book is it? is your first question. Glad you asked. Is it packed full of gritty, real-life stories about life, work, and sex in Japan, or just a hackneyed rehash of the same nonsense you’ve been reading here for a decade? Yeaaah, about that…

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Enduring Japan During the Crisis

Japanese Baby - Japanese Rule of 7

Yep, nothing like a pandemic to test one’s commitment to a cause. And until a couple months ago, I was largely settled on the idea of living in Japan forever. I appreciate all aspects of this country, from the mountains to the oceans, and all the convenience stores in between. Japan’s a wondrous neon land of late-night karaoke, bullet trains, and spotless neighborhoods, maintained by an upstanding citizenry steadfastly dumping broken stereos and microwaves into the forest. Gotta admire the conscientiousness. I like everything about Japan except the people.

And of course, there were the ladies. Chatting up random birds in bars, restaurants, the Unemployment Bureau. “Come here often for government assistance? Me too. We’ve so much in common. Let’s hang out.” They say working on a hobby keeps your brain healthy, and you know Ken Seeroi ain’t trying to get no Alzheimer’s.

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Cheating in Japan

Kyoto - Ken Seeroi

“Hi Ken,

What do you think of cheating as a subject in Japan? I recently watched this video and it says over 80% of women here cheat. How true is that?”

Okay, so several years ago I met a dude in Osaka, who’d just moved there for work. We were standing in an empty shell of a building, drinking shochu and eating dried daikon with bits of cream cheese. Who says Japanese bars aren’t the best?

Me? Oh, right. Well, anyway, he mentioned a wife and daughter back in Chiba, so I replied, “Must be hard being away.”

“Nah,” he answered, “my wife said I can have a girlfriend.”

And I was like, “Whaaa? She said whaaa?” Probably should work on sounding out my consonants a bit more.

Cheating in Japan

Then fast-forward a couple of years, when I told my girlfriend at the time I was moving out of Tokyo.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. Really thought she’d take it a bit harder, to be honest.

“I don’t mind if you have another girlfriend,” she added.

“Will you have another boyfriend?” I asked.

“No guarantees,” she replied.

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Dating Japanese Women, Explained

When Jasmine over at Zooming Japan asked me to write about dating Japanese women, my first thought was, “Ain’t no way Ken Seeroi’s touching that one.”

In case you haven’t noticed, people are majorly opinionated about Their Japan. And not just Japanese folks either; I mean foreigners. Like if I said, “Japanese architecture is stunning,” somebody’d stand up and complain that the cities are just jumbled amalgamations of aging concrete projects. Alllll righty. Then how about “Japan’s got some ugly-ass cities”? Oh now somebody else starts rambling about traditional homes being all infused with zen beauty, and rock gardens, and koi fish. So yeah, everybody’s got an opinion. Welcome to the internet.

And that’s just architecture. So talk about Japanese women? Can’t I just give my thoughts on gun control, the Iraq war, and religion? Cause those’d be less controversial. Continue reading “Dating Japanese Women, Explained”

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Who Wears the Pants in Japan?

“Ken? Ken! Wake the hell up! Meet me at the station.”

I sat up in bed, and realized it was not my bed. Words like this are why Ken Seeroi does not answer his iPhone after 11 p.m. The dreaded Yoko was on the line, and I was in her bed. Well, at least she had a bed, and not a horrible futon like I do. Either way, I really gotta remember to turn off that ringer.

“Ah baby, I’m kind of asleep,” I mumbled, “and it’s pouring down rain.”

“I forgot my umbrella,” she said. “Bring me one.”

“Yeah, just stop at 7-11. They’re like five bucks.”

“Never mind,” she said. “I’ll just get wet. Forget I asked you. Don’t worry about me.”

I could see where this was going, so I tried to use my sweet voice. Continue reading “Who Wears the Pants in Japan?”