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.)
Heavy machinery in winter
Even better…
Skidoo
Jacking a ride at Hakuba 47 base camp.
Ski Jumps
The ski jumps used for the 1998 Winter Olmypics. I never realized just how big they are…
The Un-bourbon
A 60 dollar bottle of Jack.
Fridays kick ass!
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.
Idiot Test
My results:
I am 12% Idiot.
I am not annoying at all. In fact most people come to me for advice. Of course they annoy the hell out of me. But what can I do? I am smarter than most people.
OK, I call bullshit on this test overall because I can be hugely annoying when I get in my groove. It was fun thinking about the answers, though.
WARNING! SPOILER BELOW! (Take the test first!):
Can’t help but wonder about the “asking a third time” question. N/A because you shouldn’t have to ask more than once, right? Or is that a trick?
Google Kills Goose, Finds No Egg
Do the 50 invites bug anybody else, or is it just me? Why 50? Why not 100? Why not 36,687.02? I know… Why not a google of invitations? The number seems not to matter so much after, say, 10 or so. It might have meant something when they were exclusive enough to trade for sexual favors (remember all the wankers who offered invitations only if you first clicked a sponsor’s link/voted for their blog/left a haiku in the comments?), but now they just feel like a nagging responsibility! And they must be fucking like rabbits in there! Go ahead, send a few and see how long it takes for the ones you used to be replaced! Uh-oh. They may have heard me… Help! They’re ganging up on me! URRRGHL… can’t… get… them…. off! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
*Note from editor: If (you just logged on to the Internet for the first time and) you’d like an invite, please leave a sexual favor in the comments.
Wherein nature’s fury becomes relevant
In an official document today, I used the following reason for changing a parts supplier:
“Supplier’s factory destroyed by typhoon.”
The situation described isn’t funny; I just never imagined someday writing those words.
The day of the typhoon, I drove right by that factory. That area got completely washed out when the river overflowed; if I had been there just an hour later my car would have suffered the same fate as the many others that had to be pulled out of rice paddies and sinkholes in the weeks to follow.
Note: If you are interested, my Typhoon Tokage blog posts are archived here, and the liveblogging from my keitai during evacuation is here.
Adam’s Mullet
The other day, Adam saw a school of fat mullet under a bridge near my house, so we decided to try and catch them with the only bait I had around, pickled grubs.
*Note to self: Mullet could give a shit about pickled grubs. Idiot.
The stupid fish were ignoring the bait, so we decided to use a big seabass lure as a yo-yo rig (illegal in our home state of California). I felt kind of bad about snagging them since we weren’t keeping them, but Adam, being an inherently bad person, had no such compunctions:
MulletMania Magazine Photo Contest Winner:
Mullets are ugly up close:
You kiss your mother with that mouth?
All in all, it was good fun.