One of the rites of passage in an Asian American household is fighting with your sibling for the eyeballs of the fish served up for dinner (assuming one large whole fish shared by the whole table, as opposed to smaller fish that provide eyeballs for each person). What I definitely do not remember is fighting over fish balls. Must be a SE Asian thing.
Photo taken in the Thai Town area of LA.
HIMAWARI
Ha! After those last posts, we need some happyhappyjoyjoy around here! LOOK AT THIS PIC! UNBEREAVABLE (Interestingly enough, this oft-heard-on-Jap-TV-pronunciation could be an actual word if spelled like this.)!
Two words are the reason for my joy regarding this photo: No filters.
And no, I am not referring to my work for tobacco companies.
Although my phone does have photo editing capabilities, in fact it’s a virtual “Photoshop XLE” (sorry for the geek reference), I have not – to this point – employed any graphis filters or otherwise done any editing to the photos on this moblog. Mainly because it’s hard enough to get good photos as is. These photos are hard enough to see cuz they’re SO DAMN SMALL that a solarized image of my car just might end up being mistaken for, say, a picture of Gray Davis orally gratifying Ann Coulter at the Pirates of the Caribbean (ride, not movie).
Having said that, I will have to experiment more with my phone and post some edited pics here as long as there’s no danger of being accused of posting cyberfelch.
Then again, Net Nanny hates me anyway.
Phallic Awajishima
Stephanie, being French, immediately declared this warming dish phallic. “African chinchin” I believe she said. But in the presence of others in the big dining space at Miketsukuni, a minute from my house, we rephrased it to be a bit more PC. “Awajiesque.”
Abuse
Someone is getting their ass kicked, and it ain’t the man of the house – or is it?
All the characters and events portrayed in this post are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental, notwithstandingwhichhowever.
Prove Yourself Worthy
To my Air France stewardess friend, who is coming over tomorrow:
Nothing says friend like a bottle of Chateau Margaux. May I suggest the 1961? But why am I telling you this? I’ll stick to what I, as an American, know best. Crackers and cheese whiz are totally on me.
Kuroneko
Kuroneko Yamato no Takkyubin – The OG Japanese delivery service
I, Enki
Dude. This is my greatest accomplishment in years. I inadvertently stumbled onto two Neal Stephenson short stories YOU NEVER EVEN KNEW EXISTED.
Spew is on the WIRED site, but I guess I just never found it until now.
I am posting the entirety of the Great Simoleon Caper in the extended entry of this post for posterity, because I can’t find it on a server I trust to keep it up forever.
Nitsuj Adihsoy
Well, that’s the first time I’ve spelled my name backwards for a long, long time. The last time was in 5th or 6th grade when my best friend Ben Stebbing insisted we call each other by our own names backwards. He moved to England the next year and the last time I Googled him I determined he was either dead or in a Liverpool mental hospital. (Ben, if you are alive and have access to the net, speak up my friend.)
What spurred this memory today? It ties into the best news I’ve heard all week:
In my past life I was known as J.U.S.T.I.N.,
the Jaded and Unbelievably Socratic Tibetan Ironmonger of Nubia
And all this time I thought Tibetans had a natural resistance to hemlock…
It only gets better: C.B.U.D.D.H.A.,
the Civilized , Brazenly Underrated Dogcatcher Drudge Hindi from Araby
Hat tip to J-Walk Blog
Where’s me brolly?
Well, it looks like Typhoon #2 (Japanese don’t follow the western convention for typhoon naming – on one hand, I suppose it’s kinda nice not having to admit that your cities got “battered by Alice” or “ravaged by Gertrude”) – is coming straight for my island tonight. Last time a typhoon came by I had to drive over the bridge between here and Kobe, and it was like the movie Twister in that I just had to crack my window to see just how strong the wind was blowing. In an instant, every loose toll receipt, shopping bag, hamburger wrapper, etc., whipped out the window as if we were at 30,000 feet and if I’d had the foresight to attach GPS trackers to everything, I probably could have mapped out the eye of the storm (I guess that makes my Silvia “Dorothy” in this analogy but I won’t go there.).
The weather today is what I like to call, “fungus-inducing.” Basically, this is the kind of humidity that causes jungle foot, crotch rot, and the downfall of western civilization. You actually feel dryer in the shower on days like this. I might as well spend the night in there since big storms usually destroy my satellite reception and the last one screwed with my FTTH connection as well.
It totally cracked me up when my Aussie pal told me what a brolly is. And a sultana (as in, “Sultana Bran”). Thanks to William Gibson, I know what a standover is. Damn, I really need to visit Australia sometime soon. After I buy a D70, I think.
Maguro no Magure
To me, this picture is more ironic than funny, but let’s try you first: This is a reheatable foil pouch containing a single seving of Tuna Curry.
There. Get it? I’m a loser who spends time taking pictures of every strange package in the supermarket on weekends instead of being productive. Funny, right? Yeah, go fuck a duck, pal.
(Inside my head, the taunting voice recedes.)
Well actually, this photo is a memento of sorts. You see, Nam and I are trying to eat more fish, which I am morally against since I am a strict vegetarian when it comes to most fish… Well, it’s not that bad. We eat fish at least 2-3 times a week. But we wanted more variety, so I suggested trying to make curry with fish instead of meat, since I had eaten good fish curry in Bangkok before. It was a yellow curry with a nice non-oily fish (my favorite type). Not as good as a meat curry, but probably healthier. Well, Nam ended up making this masterpiece which scared the hell out of me when I saw it, but tasted pretty good. She made a red curry with SALMON. When I first saw those pink chunks in our curry bowl, I thought “sacrilege!” and “thoughtcrime!” But it turned out tasting pretty good (Kinda gross for brekky, though.). Nam said we should try making it next time with tuna or some other “meaty” fish.
Lo and behold! Some company already thought of it. A miracle. But not miraculous enough for me to buy it at 490 yen per package. We’ll make our own fish curry, thank you very much.