And so it shall be. Tomorrow, July 1st, is the beginning of my end. Yes, tomorrow I will be wearing light bluish-gray trousers with elastic waistband, and a short-sleeve pink button down shirt w/red accents. It is unfathomably bad.
Yet I know you are all with me in spirit, yes?
Apparently so, for I have heard requests for pictures of the new duds from around the world! You are all bad people, and will burn in hell for teasing me. And yet, it somehow seems fitting (the hell part).
The thing is, I have never actually revealed my company on this blog – you may find it interesting that I made writing about my work experiences permissible part of my contract, back when I started the job 5+ years ago (although I only started blogging a couple years ago, I started writing the Salaryman Adventures in late 2000.) They basically told me to use discretion and not sell any blueprints to the Soviets, and I have honored those conditions. Posting a uniform is a gray area in my mind, insofar as that if you don’t know what major electronics company has a manufacturing base on Awajishima, neither should you be able to guess by our new metrosexual uniforms.
Plus, what am I? Your puppet? A dancing bear? Your biiiiiooooooootch? Must I heed your every whim and post humiliating photos of myself for your pleasure?
As a Japanese Yoda would say, “pondering, I must.”
Author: Justin
Unintentional Harakiri
This is a pretty amusing video someone sent me. You should look at the tiny on-screen details the second time around in order to appreciate it fully.
And now, in the immortal words of Hiro Protagonist, we present: REDNECK KATANA!
Random Osaka Photos
Some snapshots from this past weekend, taken with my keitai:
Kinda funny about the cage thing, because the Japanese simply states, “no pets allowed.” Found @ Bic Camera in Namba.
BUBBLE MAN! New competition for the grape Fanta market, with a retro cartoon design that just screams, “designed by someone’s 14-year old nephew in MS Paint.” Seen here in a vending machine near Sankaku Koen.
Now we get to the creepy stuff. CUT FACE!?! If you are stupid enough to go to this barber shop, don’t some crying to us – remember, they still shave you with straight razors in Japan. Taken at a crosswalk on Nagahori-dori.
FAMILY LOVER! Another nomination for Engrish of the Year award. Yes, that is a painted rock. On sale at Tokyu Hands for 580 yen.
For Nairimas
This one is for our Tenri University classmate, now First Secretary at the Kenyan Embassy in Tokyo:
Peasant farmer Daniel M’Mburugu was tending to his potato and bean crops in a rural area near Mount Kenya when the leopard charged out of the long grass and leapt on him.
M’Mburugu had a machete in one hand but dropped that to thrust his fist down the leopard’s mouth. He gradually managed to pull out the animal’s tongue, leaving it in its death-throes.
I, myself, would have tried appealing to the leopard’s sensitive side and pleaded for my life, and that having failed, wept pitifully. He ripped out a leopard’s tongue with his bare hands. That’s a REAL man.
Read the full story here: LINK
The great gas/electric stove debate
Following along the culinary lines of yesterday’s show-and-tell where I revealed the amazing blowfish hand axe, here’s an interesting link about common kitchen myths.
Some of the myths themselves are amusing: Are there really so many people that believe cold water (or previously boiled water) boils faster than warm water?
On the other hand, nobody will ever convince me that electric ranges are better than gas, even with the 240 volt models overseas… I mean really, is “simmering” even a worthy point of contention? It’s not exactly something that people who like cooking even think about, in my mind. In fact, I would theoretically worry more about simmering on an electric range because of the heat retention of the heating elements/surface for the first few moments.
As far as an electric range being faster for boiling a large pot of water, wow. I concede the honor.
And as for escaping heat and energy efficiency, I consider this to be the tradeoff for being able to cook better-tasting food, which is the standard by which nearly all cooking comparisons should be based on anyway; I have never seen BTU ratings specified in a recipe.
One other nit I must pick for Queen (and not my) Country:
You can heat a cup of water in the microwave. You can put a teabag in it. However, the average Joe would be surprised to find out that the result is actually not a cup of tea. “Why,” you ask: It’s an Oreo “biscuit” thing, baby.
My new pride and joy
This is my new fugu knife… which may sound confusing because I have zero intention of ever preparing puffers at home and never had an “old” one, but as you can see, is an apt description nonetheless. I did not need to sharpen it before use because it was more than razor sharp out of the box – very impressive!. The curved blade has a long sweet spot and makes both chopping vegetables and deboning fowl very easy.
The balance is just about right for chopping, but I may upgrade the handle with moulded Pachmayr grips and uranium counterweights for proper dicing action. Also, after I add a golden chrysanthemum seal and a long tang that supports my finger-forward fighting style, this should prove to be an excellent weapon of mass destruction.
Yes, this is my idea of a political blog post.
/out
Shiznit
Oh, man. I think I just stumbled onto the Big Hominid’s second home: DISGUSTING, DEPRAVED, TOILET-RELATED LINK
Triumph on Jacko
Put down that drink and shield your monitor: Triumph takes on fans outside the Michael Jackson trial
Unconventional
This is a good story about thinking outside the box: TO MEASURE THE HEIGHT OF A BUILDING WITH BAROMETER
Osaka Taxi
Just remembered this from Sunday: Four of us got in a cab and headed toward the Hankyu department store to grab a bite on one of the upper floors, before the whole thing gets redone later this year. The cab driver was female. This was only the second time I’ve ever seen a female driver, and we all had fun asking her about the taxi business from her perspective, etc. We had one of those “friendly repoire with the cabbie” things going pretty well; in all, a very cool experience. I guess I got a bit too into the whole thing, though.
The question of why all cabbies, independents and company employees alike, have to wear black (or dark blue) was posed; our driver did not know. Then, as we passed a line of people dressed in black standing at a bus stop, someone from the back seat wondered out loud why they were all dressed that way (they were dressed a bit strange, kind of an Elderly Kansai Goth type of look). Someone offered the obvious, saying “funeral,” but I tried my luck with “because they’re all cabbies.”
The car became instantly silent, and the driver’s eyes visibly bulged out of her head as she bit her tongue.
In retrospect, I may have been lucky that she didn’t slam on the brakes, punch me in the mouth, and throw us out of the car right there. She was that pissed.
//
Been in this country more than a decade; still haven’t lost the touch, I guess.