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“This is Method.”
So you expect us to believe that a man used to get mistaken for O.D.B. all the time and didn’t fully take advantage of it? Seriously, if tricking “drunken admirers from Denmark” and a “little girl who wanted to do a school report about O.D.B” are the worst things you’ve done, either: A. You are not a man, or B. You are lying in order to keep the weekly groupie orgies a secret from your wife. That is all. // Random thought: Do people call information to find phone numbers that much anymore? I can’t remember the last time I did.
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Woeful Branding
Recent tragedy aside, “Typhoon” is just a horribly unimaginative name for an (albeit yuppified and second-rate) rice rocket. “The new wave of bold style,” indeed. (Note: I’d like to suggest a correction to Toyota Canada here: “tsunami” is actually the Japanese word for… “tsunami.”) I’ve written about this in the past, but my favorite branding memory is the Japanese company that developed an early web browser and dubbed it “Woody, the Internet Pecker.” I, of course, assumed this was a product aimed at the “average horndog salaryman” demographic, complete with Auto-cache Delete Function and Boss Coming! Minimize-to-Tray Button for safely browsing tentacle rape fansites at work, and would have opted…
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Water wheels
Outside of an udon shop in Tokushima.
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Lorraine Hahn Interviewing PM Thaksin on CNN’s TalkAsia
So what about this chunami? It gets funnier every time she says it, and I swear Thaksin is trying just to ignore it. He keeps saying “wave” and “disaster” in order not to embarass her with the correct pronunciation of “tsunami.” Quick, someone stuff some pebbles in her mouth…
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Report: Beasties @ Osaka-jo Hall
The concert staff on Thursday were absolutely Gestapo about the “no recording” policy and screened for cameras, etc. at the door; they wouldn’t let people use their cellphones inside the hall (cameraphones) and admonished us even way up in the gallery seats for checking e-mails and such. Even though this is standard practice, I thought it was pretty wack since the concert kicked off late and the gap between the opening and main acts was so long (preventing Japanese from using their cell phones is like pulling cables to remove Neo from the Matrix). It made me happy to find out that my little bro managed to bring a camera…
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Poster at venue
Opening act is Le Tigre. Rrrar.
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What’s the time?
Done with work. Called T and confirmed he got the tickets. Adam and Nam are eating pizza. Getting ready to go to Osaka-jo hall, and it’s definitely time to get ill: Riding down the block with my box in my hand Today I feel like chillin’ just as chill as I can Coolin’ on the corner with a forty of O.E. ‘Cause me and M.C.A. we’re down with Mike D When I run a jam I don’t give a damn When I’m throwing bass I say, “Thank you ma’am.” Fuel injected, rhyme connected running things I’m the King Adrock and I’m the king of all kings I’m looking for a…
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Tamago no wiener yaki
The JP equivalent of a midnight Grand Slam. This gross monstrosity was served up at a local izakaya last weekend, and I was drunk enough to eat it. I don’t remember what it tasted like, but I am getting fairly sick looking at it now. Those baby wieners were about as thin as a pencil and a couple inches long. BTW, there are a few Denny’s in Japan, but they don’t serve Grand Slams. Or chicken-fried steak. Or even decent hash browns, if I recall correctly. I only went once, and I’m never going again. Udon noodles just don’t belong on a Denny’s menu.
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I’m screwed
A very attractive…GIRLFRIEND I have. An attractive friend of the female persuasion is staying over as well. My girlfriend is reading as I write this over my shoulder. Fucking please, somebody help! Well, I guess I asked for it. Many beers. Fuck me. I’m a fucking idiot for even mentioning this shit.
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Annotated Command Line
For hardcore Neal Stephenson fans: The Command Line in 2004
