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Hi2u.

On the train today there was this dude with the most perverted, mouse-like face in existence. I could not help but openly stare at him while stifling my ~*gigglez*~, and you know what the fucked up thing about the whole situation was? HE was probably grossed out by ME staring at him.

Life just isn't fair. Hmmmph.

Once a day I'll get a call from this dude in Taiwan (I answer ~1/3 of the phone calls routed to our division), and he is the most amped up individual in the history of mankind, and I am including people on drugs. If scientists can synthesize his blood or whatever and make a drug, it will immediately render cocaine and methamphetamines obsolete. It would be what tractors did for slavery.

As soon as I answer the phone he's screaming at me in furious Japanese, speaking so quickly if I didn't know who the fuck it is it would make me want to hang up.

Usually, calls follow this routine:
*ring ring*
Me: Hello, X company.
Other Party: Hello, this is Y from Z company.
Me: Sup.
Other Party: Sup. May I please speak with A?
Me: For sure. Please hold.

When he calls, it goes like this:
*ring ring*
Me: Hell...
Him: THISISBFROMTAIWA..
Me: Please hold.

Just thinking about it this close to bedtime is going to make it hard to sleep.

Let me introduce you to a website that is even better than google.com:
http://guesshermuff.blogspot.com/

I don't think it takes a player to correctly guess the muffs, but some are surprising. But what is more surprising is even though I can look at a girl's pussy with one click, I skip over 90% of them. Am I becoming an discerning Internet NWS viewer???

Today I sweat so much at the gym that my boxers were as wet as the panties of a 35 year old who has not fucked in 10 years and is about to get boned by Brad Pitt.

When centaurs run, do they pump their arms like normal people?

Sometimes we'll walk into a restaurant for lunch, and we'll see our bosses and other executives in there. Usually, we cut the fuck out because that shit is just awkward. They do sometimes see us noticing them, and then leaving. I wonder if they get self conscious about that.

Yesterday we went to "Flower See," which is supposedly to go look at the pretty cherry blossoms, but really it's just an excuse to get a group together and drink. Unfortunately we had this thing called work, so it started in the evening, but it was an absolute clusterfuck. It was like being at a concert or something. Next week I'm going to Flower See with people from my class, and that should be fun because when the girls in my class start drinking they get all sorts of receptive.

My bosses took a little business trip to Germany, where they hold the world's biggest dental trade show every two years. Our Iranian dealer came bearing gifts. Pistachios and almonds. I was real fucking excited, because the ones he gave us before were the bee's knees and cat's whiskers.

The next batch we received... let's just say you go on a date with a banging girl who is also pretty cool, due to the Ugly Duckling Syndrome. You go on another date a couple weeks later, and she's gained 15 pounds, lost a leg in a boating accident, and to top it off has some rather unsightly blemishes on her skin. That's how these pistachios and almonds were. First of all, he gave us unsalted pistachios, and they were stale as fuck. That's just a bummer.

Well, I joined a gym near work, and I had to give up some real fucking privacy to join this fucking place. I feel more invaded than if the Director of the CIA were to openly peep (is that considered peeping?) at me while I touch my no-no in the shower. I had to write down where I work, how much I get paid, under whose name the phone number I gave is, and my plans for the future. What the fuck. This is a gym; I am not registering with my probation officer.

I woke up and read the following, courtesy of an email from my boy Jake, in response to yesterday's update: "The American dream is that you don't need to be good looking to pull hotties. Just look at Kenny Powers." My friend basically told me that I am not good looking. That bothers me.

My ass has been getting more spam on my phone than a Hawaiian who likes to "eat" things the opposite of everyone else, so I wanted an alarm clock. I was using my phone as my alarm, and not only does that remind me of the homeless, I have it set on audible alerts, and since I am constantly getting spammed, that is fucking annoying.

I went to the electronics store and wanted an alarm clock with three features: 1. display I can see at night, 2. big numbers, 3. cheap. The only one that fit my criteria, kinda, is this $50 Citizen. It is supposedly radio controlled (for setting the time), however I seem to be out of range. What the fuck, am I in Africa? And why the fuck do people need radio controlled alarm clocks? I understand it would be convenient if you lived somewhere that observed Daylight Savings.

My boys and I went to get lamb in this chintzy part of town, full of Koreans and Chinese, and I believe we were the only Japs in the place. And look what they have on the menu... DOG. I was down to get it, as was one other guy, but the other two refused. FTL.

Got some pictures from other people from our BBQ on Saturday.

Picture 4: Keeping it real.

Picture 5: Japanese people do not grill steaks, burgers, or chicken. Usually people have these thin strips of beef, marinated or not, some seafood (as you can see we are stunting some scallops), and vegetables, finished with some yakisoba (stir fried noodles) at the end.

Picture 6: Probably propositioning...

Picture 7: For you, Jenna. Birds of a feather flock together. BBBBCAW!

Picture 8: Probably should stop the sexual harrasment.

Picture 9: Wayfarers look good on anybody, so my sunglasses were passed around more than HIV at the Power Exchange. Then someone thought it fit to steal them, which was not such an ace move.

Picture 10: If you have been keeping up with my shit, you know that Japanese people love nothing more than to pass around bottles of liquor, cheering people on to chug as much as possible. I do not remember this happening, and I am sure that this was what fucked me up. I had tried to keep it real and not chug, but FML.

Picture 11: This fool, I hear, got the most ridic, and had to have his parents pick him up. Um, how old are you?

Picture 12: Ah this woman sent the dude who sits across from me the most passive-aggressive message today. Apparently in his krunk he spilled a bunch of booze on her bag and stained it. I have not seen that much passive-aggressive behavior since Ferd.

                       

Click here to download:

I_farted_in_the_shower_and_it_.zip (1876 KB)

Though some may say that it is a little sad that the reason for my happiness is because I just found out that I did not offend the girl I <333 while black out drunk.

k it's kinda cool how I can foul out for a couple of hours and keep it real on autopilot for a couple hours, but FML what the fuck goes on in those hours? If somehow I can regain those memories, like all at once, that would be an epiphany on the level of Archimedes when he discovered whatever it was that made him exclaim "Eureka!!!" Honestly.

I was flossing my teeth, then saw an eye booger, so I went to pick it out and the mint from the floss burned my eye like whoa.

During the BBQ on Saturday, this girl who I'm pretty good acquaintances with flat out told me that she does not think I am good looking. I don't know why, but that really hurt my feelings and still does. It hurt more than the feelings that were hurt when Kenny Fucking Powers told the parents of the kids he teaches how much money he is going to make in Tampa. Raining dollar, dollar, bills y'all.

Getting drunk on the reg, fucking good times on the reg, yachts on the reg, sex on the reg...

Anyway, back in reality, today I went to a new gym because my old one closed down. Going to a new gym is like going to a new school and I was so nervous at all the new people I'd meet! The gym was fucking shitty as a homeless shelter and I really started to appreciate the gym we had back in college. There was a dirty gaijin, and my favorite was a woman running on the treadmill in rain boots, and no it was not raining outside. The only good point was that there were some beautiful bitches up in there, and one MILF brought out a mat and started doing who knows what next to me until I left. Everyone seemed to know each other, and the camaraderie seemed nice, if in the inner circle.

I was out.

I think I'm suffering from self esteem issues. Is this an ailment that beer can cure?

P.S. Do you get those emails with the message "Please consider the environment before printing this email?" Sometimes it'll have a picture of a tree or something green and organic. Well more than once I have printed an email and if that fucking message wasn't there I could've printed what I needed on one page, instead of a line or two bleeding to the second page. That is just ironic, don't you think?

I had been looking forward to this BBQ for fucking weeks. Organizing it was a complete bitch, though it was well worth it. I had to front a bunch of money though and I didn't like that because I hate lending money.

This is one of those times that the yasushouse.com layout is beneficial.

Picture 1: Look! We have Costco in Japan!

Picture 2: They have this pizzas, but the problem is that very few people have ovens at home, much less ovens that can fit a whole pizza in them. Cutting it into pieces and baking them in a toaster oven strikes me as so pathetic and sad...

Picture 3: We found a sweet spot away from everyone else, and started shuttling shit from the car. Then we were told that BBQs are forbidden, so we had to lug everything to a different spot. Ain't that a B?

Picture 4: Guy in the pink shirt is our company's most famous employee. Invites every single girl out drinking, and whenever there are social functions he refuses to talk to dudes and sticks to entertaining the ladies. There's this girl I really like that came to the BBQ so I really didn't want him here because I get jealous, however I did want to see how he operates. Apparently he cooled down *a little* after getting married, but motherfuck what a player. And of course he had all the girls giggling and giggling, even the one I am into, so that made me so jealous I drank a Budweiser.

Picture 5: My two best nogs in my class.

Picture 6: This is the dude that sits in front of me at work. Whenever we all go out drinking, there is a rotation of four people, me, him, this girl, and this dude, who get ridiculous and out of control. I was fucking frightened that person would be me today, and so I mentally prepped myself the day before to not get too krunk. He thought he had shit under control, but as soon as tequila is rolled out...

Picture 7: Sloshball time. This was after Flip Cup, but I swear Japanese people do not like drinking games. It was like organizing a firing squad to get people to play. We only played four games before they all got bored. But it was windy as shit so the cups would not stay put.

Picture 8: Fuck, I forgot to take a picture of the keg, but the biggest one that is offered is 20 liters, which is 5.3 gallons. It cost $130, plus $60 for the tap. What the fuck. I remember we used to get 15 gallon kegs for $40 on special days, or $60 on regular days, back in California. It was a lot more expensive than buying cans of beer, but I was adamant that we needed a keg for the right Sloshball atmosphere. I am so glad I stuck to my game. This game deteriorated after 15 minutes because people would just congregate at second base and drink. Sloshball fail...

Picture 9: Girl on my left, Suzie, is the other foul-out member.

Picture 12: The two girls on my team at work. We're only missing our leader *tear*.

Picture 13: Hahaha to be honest I don't really remember much about this, but apparently he fouled out. Thank God that was not me today.

Picture 14: They all look so worried, and that made me laugh.

                           

Click here to download:

Sloshball_and_Flip_Cup..._in_J.zip (3852 KB)

This is one of my best friends in the company, Guchi. He is moving out of these dorms and into dorms closer to the factory where he designs shit. That makes me really sad. My other boy cut out in December.

I am sad, and did what any sad 25 year old male does. I cleaned my room.

That wasn't enough, so I asked him if he wanted to have a sleepover. He declined, and was a little too quick and forceful in the rejection it made me make that face that you would make if you see an older coworker at the gym, in the locker room, naked, slapping his stomach and leering at you.

Cause that happened to me today.

You may be wondering why I call my friend "Guchi." In Japan, people's names, both surnames and given names, are written with two characters. My last name is Thousand Leaves, and my first name is Everlasting Peace. His is Mountain Mouth, and just taking the last character, "Mouth," is "Guchi" in Japanese. People of high breeding may stunt three character names. I've even seen four. There's a kid in my class who has a three character name, and it is "Happiness is Best." Sounds like a fucking fortune cookie but it is pretty baller.

The girl that sits next to me is Bridge Book, and the dude that sits in front of me is Inside River. In Japan you'll see lots of Rivers, Trees, Fields, Plains, Inside, Islands...

Guchi says he really likes cycling, and has this really nice bike, and watches cycling all the time like Stricker. I have seen him ride his bike once. Hah.

And at the end of training, we went on this outdoor bonding thing, because the dude who runs the training program is really into that sort of thing, and the first challenge was to ride bikes up this steep mountain, and see how far we can get without stopping, or touching our feet to the ground. We were also timed. My fat ass beat Guchi, and I think even a couple girls beat him. Everyone expecting him to pull some Lance Armstrong type shit, but he definitely went ahead and disappointed his hero.

   

Click here to download:

I_am_sad..zip (301 KB)

Let's take a moment of silence... to balance shit out, because WE FUCKING BEAT KOREA!!!!!

Since I couldn't watch most of the game (though I did watch an hour during lunch), I was keeping track of shit via a live blog. Nearing the end, people at work were watching the game on their cellphones. Apparently my cellphone is not only shitty as a camera, but also as a TV, because it got 0 reception. Well... now what?

I want my ringtone to be whatever jingle the 5:30 bell is. That is probably the best sound in the world, next to The Tiz asking me to put it where her nug-nugs come out.