If WinXP has an aneurism during re-installation and defaults to the Blue Screen of Death, with the dreaded error 000021a and the mysteriously simple descriptor: “Unknown Hard”, slap the monitor and the keyboard around a few times (I’ll give you hard, bitch!) and kick the minitower around until you smell smoke.
Alternatively, insert the WinXP install CD again and set the boot order in BIOS to optical drive first, hard drive second, then reboot and try, try again.
Bill Gates can be a real asshole sometimes.
Month: July 2004
Nepal
In response to questions regarding the beauty of Nepalese women, Taro answered that you never really see Nepalese women in Nepal. They are traditionally kept hidden from view.
Soapland Diaries
Busy three day weekend. Had to go clear out remaining stuff at my little sister’s apartment in Sakai on Saturday (the stalker incident left her shaken and we didn’t let her be there by herself after that), but there was too much to move with my car in a single trip, so I enlisted Taro and his van to help out. Friday, after work, I rode the hydrofoil to the airport and from there took a couple trains to his house in Horyuji. Inevitably, drinking ensued.
Some memorable moments include picking up my new theramin at Taro’s new incense shop, snapping a shot of a girl in a pink yukata playing an accordion, and eating a heavenly slice of yubari melon while lightly fingering a Fender bass.
The most memorable conversation that night was one between Taro and a friend from overseas who shall remain unnamed because:
1. His older sister, who I know from university, and respect, sometimes reads this weblog
– and –
2. His older sister, who is known to punch people in the mouth, sometimes reads this weblog
(If you think you are the sister I am referring to, you definitely are not the sister I am referring to. Or in a way, maybe you are. Don’t ask me, it’s a zen thing.)
Anyway, this anonymous person, who I shall call Mr. X, has only been in Japan for a year or so, and had a lot of questions regarding daily life. Easy enough, so we helped him out and gave pointers and I got very sleeeeepy from the beer and knocked out for a while. When I awoke in a fuzzy state of having just realized that I must have dozed off for a spell, I was in that “overhearing snippets of hushed conversation” state of not-quite-awakeness.
Fascinating. Mr. X had started confiding in Taro about recent sexual escapades in an altogether serious manner. Serious, as in, “Am I fucked up if I get off on dotdotdot” type of talk. Now substitute the following for dotdotdot:
1. Kinky oral stuff? (Taro’s answer: Hell no!)
2. Buggery? (Taro’s answer: Nothin’ wrong if she asks for it)
-and-
3. If she wants to stick her soapy fingers up my butt during oral gratification? (Taro’s answer: Um)
At this particular juncture I could no longer contain my amusement and exploded with laughter, forever staining the moment with much back slapping and ribbing (Mr. X, you dirty dawg!). Mr. X was thoroughly humiliated and will probably have to go to a therapist to fix the emotional damage I caused by waking up at just the wrong moment, overhearing his dark secret, and then teasing him about it all night. Plus, he never got the last question answered because Taro went off on one of his tangents and the most interesting aspect of the story became whether the girl in question is a soapland veteran or not. (“Soaplands,” previously known as torko, short for “Turkish bath,” are places to get “sudded up.” One of the standard “services,” apparently, is anal probing).
Anyway, if you think you are reading about your little brother now, I just want you to know: It ain’t him. He’s an angel.
Under the Table
Amazing Japan Factoid of the Day: In Japan, you can run your fingers under the bar without getting grossed out because NOBODY STICKS GUM ON THE BOTTOM OF BARS OR TABLES. Hypochondriacs, unite.
Chopstick Art
See my chopstick art. See what Merin will look like at 40.
Recharging
I have no idea where the flux capacitors or whatever this refers to were located, but this sign says, “recharging.”
Taro’s house
Electric pole in front of Taro’s house.
Go-Go Yubari
Pictured here is a slice of Yubari melon, the most expensive melon in the world, just before consumption. Yum.
Excelsior
Certainly something I had never seen before. The accordion is an antique Excelsior, which probably costs 15 times more than the yukata the girl is dressed in.
Cabin food for thought
I read this article this morning and can’t stop thinking about it:
Terror in the Skies, Again?
If you were the author, would you have gotten up and done something? If there really were air marshals on that flight, what the fuck were they waiting for? Perhaps they didn’t have “probable cause,” i.e., one of the “musicians” to emerge from the lav and ask another if they had more matches, “cuz the fuse is damp with ketchup.” I have this sinking feeling there were no air marshals on that flight, and the crew was simply going by the handbook to placate the passengers. If so, that’s just a horrible mindfuck. But I certainly wouldn’t put it over the airline companies at this point.