The first time I tried to catch him, he jumped out of the tupperware and onto my hand. Talk about goosebumps… I nearly shit my pants. Nam yelled at me not to kill it – kill it? HOW? Besides, woman, you’re standing on a chair after I flicked it on the floor!
After I finally captured the Mighty Awaji Bird Eating Spider, we took a walk down the street and released him in the bushes next to Jusco.
If you look closer (open a larger photo by clicking on it), you can see he’s missing a leg. He might be the same one Adam photographed on the front porch last month.
I’ve uploaded more pictures of this beast here.
Month: September 2005
This Just In
Attention all Americans in Japan, whipped cream in cans is NOW AVAILABLE AT A JUSCO SHOPPING CENTER NEAR YOU!!!
Fear not the Euro-sounding Chantibic brand name, this stuff looks, smells, and lubricates just like Redi Whip! (or so I’m told)
Get your hands on a can NOW, while supplies last – I fear the Japanese palate will reject the simple flavor of pure canned whipped cream and the manufacturers will soon be forced to churn out localized blends:
– Nama Ume flavor! (Great on hamo sushi!)
– Wonderful Wasabi! (Perfect with chu-toro!)
– Dashi (Just spray on a hot bowl of rice for an instant meal!)
– and of course, the old Japanese standby, American Corn! (For hot dogs and hamburgs!)
Yoshida Porter I am not
What the hell? (see comments at bottom of that page) May as well have some fun with it, I guess.
Speech-to-text it is not
Speaking of cars, the new voice-controlled car navigation systems are a total fucking trip. A couple weeks ago, I caught a ride with a guy from work to an after-work enkai (drink up) in his new navi-equipped ride. I truly felt like a stranger, because he carried on a conversation with the in-dash navigation system, which he has dubbed Keiko, the whole way.
DRIVER (using destination input command): Keiko! Destination, Taiho (restaurant name), Route 28.
KEIKO (in sexy woman’s voice): Confirmed. Time to destination is approximately five minutes.
DRIVER: Keiko! Thank you.
KEIKO: You’re welcome.
Now this was pretty fucking geeky and I teased the fuck out of my coworker, asking him where he stuck his dick to receive a “lube job”, etc., but the best was yet to come:
KEIKO (as we approached town): Take the next right. By the way, do you like ice cream?
ME: WTF!!?!
DRIVER: Keiko! No.
KEIKO: Oh, okay then.
ME: What the fuck was that about?
DRIVER: She wanted to make us stop by the Baskin Robbins at Jusco.
ME: Doesn’t she know it closes at 10? Dumb bitch.
DRIVER: Shut up! You will respect Keiko, or you will walk!
/////////
I fucking love technology, but it’s a curse I tell you. It’s eventually going to come to a point where humans no longer need each other, but by that time I hope to be long gone. My laptop is indispensable, but I draw the line at robot fellacio (in Japanese: robofela).
Toyota Presents: Driving for Dummies
Annoying beeps and auto-braking are quite possibly the most unwanted features I can think of, for a car. And yet: Toyota Computer Makes You Watch the Road
What we really, really need is a Remote Bitchslap Feature. That guy weaving across three lanes? RBF. The secretary type who can’t stop glancing at her PDF/keitai every two seconds? RBF. That ugly guy with index finger probing for salty green nostrilnuggets? RBmothafuckinF.
Warning: I will most likely be automatically RBFing every white Toyota that passes, just on principle.
(link via)
The Pedantic Culinary
It’s not easy being a leading authority in the English-language realm of Japanese Fish Sausage, and yet, I feel I have accomplished something very important.
For my next project I had hoped to cover the plastic food replicas often seen in the front window of Japanese restaurants (and on sale in Doguyasuji), but someone has already done an excellent job of that: Delicious Vinyl: Japan’s Plastic Food Replicas
Another dream…
I dreamt of speaking with an Indian chief over a campfire. Unfortunately, it was not an Indian fire, but a “white man’s fire,” and it drew our enemies in closer and closer with its absurd largeness. They were taking potshots at us. Hurriedly, the chief passed onto me a buffalo horn and said simply, “you will know what to do with it.”
Then he started singing:
Hayayayayigh
See my arrows fly
Hayayayayigh
Over and over and over. An arrow pierced his heart, and he passed into the next world, content. I was left holding the buffalo horn.
//
The thing is, I know this song from my childhood, but I can’t remember what it’s from. Why so many vivid dreams lately? (That’s not a complaint, I just want to know why.)
BMW with carbon fiber hood
Why does this guy want to make his BMW look like a civic???
Why???
