High school dropouts, strung-out junkies, and fucked gaijin, behold: This is all you need to jackpot vending machines in Japan. I’ve seen evidence of it poured down coin slots of every make and model of jihanki, but passersby usually mistake it as simple vandalism rather than evidence of (usually attempted but not successful) theft. Hearsay in my college dorm was that older machines are more likely to produce coins (via return slot) than newer ones, and lengthy debates were held on the question of whether other brands of dishsoap would work as well as MamaLemon, pictured above. Basically, the entire jackpotting phenomenon* exists mainly because: A. Japanese college students are…

If you bought a by d:sign d:1070 DVD player in Japan and need instructions for unlocking the region free function (to be able to view DVDs from other regions), look no further: 1. Open the tray 2. Press the Setup button on the remote 3. On the Selection page, press the following buttons: 1, 3, 7, 9 4. When the Region Code screen appears, change the Region from 2 to 0 5. Buy me a beer if it works!

The mosquito-free period in Japan seems to be shrinking every year: I clearly remember having stray skeeters bumbling about the house as late as the last week of January, and I was assaulted by a particularly thirsty one again just last night. For many years, November through April were completely mosquito-free, but I guess it was just inevitable that my nemesis would eventually evolve to torture me in all but the coldest periods of the year. And this is important to me, see, because last night, I slapped myself across the cheek in my sleep, hard. I was dreaming that a giant mosquito, like in that old-ass movie Caveman had…

This is my state of mind after 3 days of hitting the slopes in Hakuba (quite literally, I’m afraid). It was an awesome trip, overall. Nobody got hurt too badly (although general aches and soreness are shared by all), even the little girl in the pink helmet who Taro ran into at high speed and made cry. I’m burnt a nice shade of brownish-red, and the “racoon eyes” are a source of great joy for my colleagues. (I can’t believe I brought back cookies as a gift for these bastards – they don’t deserve cookies.)

Taking a three day trip up to Hakuba with Adam and T for some boarding – I haven’t been on one that long in ages. Time to unwiiiiiind… Should have some adventures to share when I get back.

Recently, the combination of late nights and wet roads evokes memories so immersive, I often find myself halfway home before realizing that it’s raining and I really should slow down. (The weather affects me more than I care to admit, I guess.) The memories I speak of all have one thing in common, that is, they are all memories of other late, rainy nights. This is my most recent one: Around six years ago, I was driving a coworker to her house in Moriguchi (Osaka), after a company drink-up. She had passed out and my boss asked me to take her home. It was raining pretty hard that night, and…

So I got the call from the bank yesterday and they changed their minds about having me inside the bank, I guess. They offered to meet me on my lunch break in the union office next to our company cafeteria today. They told me to bring ID and my hanko (personal seal) to sign off on a receipt, to which I said, “no.” The guy replied I could sign my name instead of using a hanko (as if that was the problem), and I basically made up my mind to not sign a goddamn thing before going into the meeting today. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so why should…

During lunch break I went to one of the ATMs next to our company cafeteria and tried to withdraw 25,000 yen. The transaction went smoothly until the very last step – my bank card and the receipt came out of the machine, but when the cash drawer opened, the machine suddenly seized up with squeaking cacophony of bill-shredding grinds and the drawer slammed shut, leaving me empty-handed. The revolving status indicator spun sickeningly for a brief instant and finally landed on OUT OF ORDER. I glanced at my relection on the two-way glass panel from which I was doubtlessly being recorded and saw my jaw drop in a classic “WTF?”…