Incidentally, Cosmic Buddha’s GF recently shared a scary story about a women’s restroom at the rear of a temple she visited in Thai a couple years ago. Apparently there was a dead rat floating in the barrel used for holding water used for “flushing”. She fled in abject horror but didn’t have the heart to tell the nice monk who was showing their group around the temple.
Disclaimer: This temple obviously did not fall under the authority of Cosmic Buddha. We have flushing toilets at all of our temples, for both sexes.
Work Request: Bran Muffins
Sometimes working in a factory office with constipated old men really has its downs. I have been waiting to take a crap for a couple of hours now. Its not that there are no stalls free – in fact, I could have been done with my business two hours ago if that were the only concern. The big problem is the stench. The stench that even I, the veteran of a thousand outhouses ripened by the summer sun and open pits at outdoor concerts, the back of temples, etc., cannot bear for more than two seconds. I wish there were a menu especially geared for those over 45 years of age (a full third who work here at my company fall into this bracket) at the cafeteria here, taking the odiferousness of feces during work hours into consideration. Because every time I work up the nerve to head to the bathroom (3 times in the past 90 minutes), I get a whiff of semi-digested ebi-fry (deep-fried prawns) from waaaay down the hall and immediately turn back to the sanctuary of stale cigarette smoke and pasty salarysweat in my office.
To my fellow workers, some of who I know are surreptitiously viewing this blog under orders from corporate HQ: Laying atom bombs in the john are uncalled for in this day and age. I surrender unconditionally in advance; just let me do my business. Soon.
It’s 4:00 in the morning…
I get the strangest notions in my head about what would make an interesting subject at those godforsken hours.
Borealis?
Crazy cool image, but I have no idea how this effect was created. Special things happen in the wee hours of the night.
Bright Lightbulb
The lamp next to my bed is powered with Chinese electronics and a Russian lightbulb that burns long into the night, a veritable beacon of perestroika.
Taro’s Earring Display
Taro’s judgement is getting a little questionable. This is strictly swap meet material IMHO, but he’s displaying it at Bill’s. Heh.
UNIX-brained Poet
Looking over this site’s stats, the most common queries are:
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Now that is pure poetry. It starts out like the first song of the first (and best) STP album and ends with “do me cheap.” Ah, yeah.
My Brother, Adam Yoshida…
Will be amused to find that his name is the domain of a guy who “surpasses Rush Limbaugh for zealousness and Ann Coulter for madness.”
www.adamyoshida.com
LOL. Even their middle initials are the same (Adam Teiichi Yoshida / Adam Takao Yoshida).
I have a serious beef with the Yoshida Sauce dude, too. What a sellout with that chop suey font and “you sooo fonny meesta!” photo. Bite MY cracked peppercorn teriyaki, foo. Although I do want a pair of Justin boots and a select few of the bags offered by Yoshida Kaban (although their website sucks fanny pack; try here to see an otaku fan site of their products).
Traditions & Boners Galore
Did you know that “raccoon” can also be spelled “racoon,” and did you know that raccoons get serious wood sometimes? I had no idea either, before our little day trip to Nazo no Paradise (Paradise of Mysteries) on my little island, Awajishima. The place is located about 40 minutes away from my pad in Sumoto and is touted as a backwoods kind of amusement/attraction. Everyone I asked about it would not specify exactly what the attraction was, so we really had no idea what to expect…
Walking down this scenic little valley, you would never expect to find yourself in a room full of shrines dedicated to (mostly) raccoon boners, would you?
Click the link below for more pictures. (Note: You’ll poke your eye out! Not work safe.)