Monday, June 27, 2005

I should probably stop dressing like a I grow marijuana in a kiddie pool out back...

I recently received an e-mail from one of my bousom buddies back in the ol' Japan declaring in confused english "why do you meet so many weird people". This came to clarification as I was writting her response, mulling over the happenings of the past few days, and considering other topics I had discussed with her; and, in turn, putting the two together. Due to my shaky blogging track record the reader (if one does exist) may not be aware of just how many cocktail looloos tend to flock around this mighty city of Mizzykoto; it can turn into quite the horde.

Yesterday I took my Japanese speaking partner, whom herebye shall be known as "The Look" due to the swollen lexicon of expressions she can whip out at a moments oddity, to her first concert in the Mizzykoto. I hoped to impress The Look with our wide, diverse range of music and undiscovered talents that surreptitiously dodge about our local alleys and clubs entertaining clapping drunks and baked college students for wages barely enough to skin a cat. Something bohemian. And what did I get? A guy in a one-peice bathing suit (blue with a pale strip) singing (badly) to a recorded karaoke cassette that was most likely assembled on a bet; something I beleive that also played a major role in the choice of apparel. Half way through the exhibition, about five minutes after the ambulance of drunken artists drove by and a little before someone was nailed in the face with a jelly-donut, our faithful performer enhanced the "show" with his magician side by mystically transforming his one peice women's bathing suit into a speedo and thus being able to gingerly keep the beat with his graciously forested man-breasts. The Look however missed that particular display having ducked out earlier for a man-in-a-one-peice smoke. God bless her innocence saving cylinders of death.

Another encounter that sparked my friends comment occured last Thursday as Matt and myself were out about on the streets, probably up to no good and not doing a very good job of it; when from around the corner appeared a lovely redhaird man in tiny-tiny pigtails singing a deleightful diddy about how he's "going to get laid". From his rapidly oscillating voice and his "what is he tripping over" manner of walking one could tell that he was not just high on life. He asked us if we had a lighter, and once denied he asked if he we had marijuana of any sorts. We assured him of none and, after repeating the question and answer three or four more times, he left merrily on his way.

However that was not to be our last encounter with the dope-sprite.

While Matt parked his car, I proceeded down to the local park where some hoo-ha was to go down that night, and took up rest on a picnic table atop a hill. With my hands on my chest, laying down on the table's seat, my partial sleep was disturbed by a loud "ufph" which I took to be Matt attempting to call my name only to give up half way. My Mathew suspicions were confirmed when I heard him approach and mount the picnic table I was resting on. Thinking I should make conversation, I opened my eyes to check his position only to find my face being stradled our pixie of the pixie dust as he slowly lowered his worn jean crotch closer and closer to my mouth. I did scream, and spring forward in crotch-related panic; which apparently frightened the poor creature as he exclaimed "Dude you almost ate my crotch!" his voice still shaking like a vibrator wielded by a sufferer of Parkinson's disease.

He then sat cross legged atop the table and proceded to tell us his background. "I'm a hitchhiker man...I freak people out with my crotch!" I later found out from Mathew that the loud escape of air I heard earlier was him being gunnysack from behind by Jimminy Crackit before being asked, yet again, if he had any drugs to sell. We "conversed" with the young user for a little longer before a loud noise distracted him and sent him running of into new adventures and new straddlable faces.

I used to think they came to me because I hung out with those big breasted women. But now that it's just me and Matt (whose breasts, while appealing, are no towering structures of Babylon) I have to put a new hypothesis into play. Perhaps it's the clothes. I should probably stop dressing like a I grow marijuana in a kiddie pool out back...

Monday, June 20, 2005

自動ドアが私の為に開いてくれる

For my own simple pleasure (can you tell I'm presently unemployed) I've translated the lyrics from the previous song for the Japanese impared. Please be aware of the fact that this is a highly flawed document!, and when entirely unaware of the actual meaning of the lyrics I just made stuff up. (the bold corresponds to what is written, in Japanese, in the 'about me' section of my profile)

Convenience Store
by
Breif and Trunks
translated by
Thomas Renroh

Well, since the parents are asleep, I’ve gotta do-anything-free-ride. So what do?
Middle of the night, friends is asleep and, the television is already scrambled
That’s that, I wonder if we should go to a convenience store?

Twenty-four hours (convenience store)
Seven days a week (convenience store)
Security camera (convenience store)
Would you like that heated up? (convenience store)
Hang-out of the good-for-nothings (loitering in the entrance way)
Rarely having any fear (loitering in the entrance way)
Why you could even call out (Hey there pretty lady!)
What is it? (no bra today?)

Well, if I go beyond the delinquents, the automatic door opens for me.
With big buddy reading his porn, after I choose and magazine and read
Didn’t really come to buy something, nonetheless, I’ll peruse the aisles

Twenty-four hours (convenience store)
Seven days a week (convenience store)
Public service fees (convenience store)
Hurry up and make the copy! (convenience store)
A taciturn part-time job (nothing but a blank expression)
Me without any make-up (without drawing on my eyebrows)
I’ll have a bean paste bun (suppressing urge to kill)
Well then, meat bun’s fine too (will that be everything?)

Now the way to hand a small amount of change
Use the palm of my hand and place the coins on the receipt to hold it down
I put it all inside the wallet. You’ve fairly pissed me off.
As for then, from me, too, you shall receive retaliation!

I’ll have the lunch box (What would you like in it?)
Well uh, well uh (what would you like in it?)
Well uh, well uh (The registers getting crowded)
Well uh, well uh (hurry up and decide)
I’ll have an egg please (that’s one egg)
I’ll have an egg please (that’s two eggs)
I’ll have an egg please (that’s three eggs)
That’ll do for now (you’re only getting eggs?)
Smothered in tempura sauce (Is that everything?)
And how much is that (two-hundred and twenty yen)
Can you break a ten-thousand bill? (I don’t have change for that!)
Can you break a ten-thousand bill? (I don’t have change for that!)
Soak it in mustard would ya. (Is that everything?)
I won’t be needing the receipt (quit pestering me)
Can I use the toilet (we don’t have one here)
Well where the hell do you go? (I give up.)

While doing our pointless stuffs, the night conveys that it’s already over; and the rooster crows.
If we don’t return before the parents wake, there will be hell to pay
I wonder, why don’t we come to the convenience store once again tonight!?Let’s go to convenience store!

Friday, June 17, 2005

コンビニエンスストア!

Learn the origin of my 'about me' profile. Observe the bold...

コンビニ
ブリーフ&トランクス

さあ親が寝たから、何でもやりたい放題よ!何をしよう?
夜中じゃ友達寝ているし、テレビもすでに砂嵐
そうだわ!コンビニ行こうかな!
二十四時間 (コンビニエンスストア)
年中無休の (コンビニエンスストア)
防犯カメラ (コンビニエンスストア)
こちら温めますか? (コンビニエンスストア)
不良のたまり場 (入口でたむろ)
怖く入りにくい (入口でたむろ)
声かけられた! (そこのおねーちゃん)
何ですか? (ノーブラですか?)

さあ、不良を過ぎれば自動ドアが私の為に開いてくれる
エロ本読んでいるオヤジとならんで雑誌読んでから
何を買いに来てわけじゃないけど買い物探す

二十四時間 (コンビニエンスストア)
年中無休の (コンビニエンスストア)
公共料金 (コンビニエンスストア)
コピー早くしてよ! (コンビニエンスストア)
無口のアルバイト (しかも無表情)
私はすっぴん (眉毛もかかずに)
あんまんください (ちょうどキレてます)
じゃあ肉まんでいいわ (かしこまりました)

ちょっとおつりの渡し方!
私の手の平勝手に使い 小銭をぶんちん代わりにレシート置くな!
財布に入れいくいのよ! ちょっとムカッとしちゃうのよ!
そんな時は私からも仕返しするの!

おでんください (何にしますか?)
えーと、えーと (何にしますか?)
えーと、えーと (レジが混んできた)
えーと、えーと (早く決めてくれ)
たまごください (たまごひとつ)
たもごください (たまごふたつ)
たまごください (たまごみっつ)
以上でいいわ (たまごでけですか?)
おつゆ多めに (かしこまりました)
おいくらですか? (二百二十円です)
一万円から? (小銭はねーのかよ!)
一万円から? (小銭はねーのかよ!)
からしつけてよ (かしこまりました)
レシートいらないわ (いちいちうれせーな)
トイレ貸してよ (うちにはありません)
あなたはどこでするのよ? (負けました)

なんでことしてるうちに夜はもう終わりを告げて鶏も鳴く
親が起きる前にお家に帰らなきゃヤバイ
今夜もまたコンビニ来ようかな

Let’s go to コンビニエンスストア

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

but what tiny babies!...

And so it has begun. After countless Sunday paper rummaging and selling myself on the internet as a sexually active eleven-year old, I've finally found myself a place to stay for the remaining year in the home country. And what a house it will be. My happy little abode sports an array of four bedrooms and two bathrooms; one of which, however, that does not sport a light. Not merely a light bulb, but no light fixture whatsoever in which to place a light bulb. Peeing in the dark has greatly improved my aim. The hallway is littered with beer cans and when I first showed up my roommate introduced the house by proclaiming "Let me tell you this first; we smoke marijuana". Well bless my midwife heart, I don't believe it.

My roommates, as of now only two, are Billie...the stoner business major whom I've seen fully clothed only once when I first went to check the place out. Since then he seems to prefer boxers or bath towel. And Sue, the recently 'out'ed lesbian with what could be considered a drinking problem. Both lovely people, I assure you, and I am entirely looking forward to charming games of scrabble we'll play in front of the fireplace every Thursday night; as I'm sure it's standard procedure in the house.

And then there are the tiny doors. My room, actually, sports two tiny doors, as well as the adjacent un-occupied bedroom. Our lightless bathroom has but one tiny door stuffed with insulator. The tiny doors are about six inches by two inches and are...doors. Doors that lead to the outside of the house. Billie explains to me that they are for hiding babies; but what tiny babies!...

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Well then...

It's finished. The Japanese Thomas you once knew is now dead and lost...I morne. さぁ、Missoulaに帰っちゃったよ。気持ち悪いんだ。故郷はどう?じゃ、まだ親と一緒に住んでいるし、まだおらの友達は他の街の大学に居るんだし、まだおらは時々日本語で云うし、まだおらの脳は何も判りません。嗚呼!店か何処へでも行く時、何か買う時、まだ日本語の言葉を使います。まだ『お願いします』とか『済みません』と云っているんだ。狂っていると思う。でも善い事が有る。久しぶり友達と会ゑました。自分の先生の演劇に行った時、友人と不意に遭ったんだ!予定じゃなかった。勿論喫茶店へ行って、一杯喋った。友はNepalに行ったらしいです。格好ゐゐですね。死んだ人を見る事が出来たんだ!嘘じゃない!おらは日本に居る内に死んだ人と全然見なかった。大体酔っ払っちゃった人を見たんけど…

I went to my cousins wedding this weekend. Fairly beautiful ceremony. You know, you got the nice wind and the flower in her hair; and that dress that shows them legs that go all the way up to yah yah land. I got to mingle with my cousins, order them around, and drink heavily...with my family...prompted by my grandfather. My grandfather's reasoning for allowing his underaged grandson to consume mass amounts of hops fuzz....??

This would be; having never really been a past boozer...in the past, my first big American drinking party. Sure I'd been to plenty of Japanese drinking parties, but it turns out the two differe in a very crucial way. The story echoes as follows:

I was destined to stay at my cousin's wife's mother's house (herebye to be known as the CWF). My choice of residency was based on the CWF's wide collection of alcohol, usually kept in a troft, and the hottenanny (if that is a word) parties that were carried out the two nights of the wedding. My sleeping place of choice, the downstairs couch. So come the second night, after the ties been knotted and the bride and groom are off frolicking in their crapulence at some dirty Motel Eight across the street; the friends and family (mostly friends) threw a little celebration in CWF's garage. I was most certainly not going to mis out; what with drinking permission from my grandfather I was free to dim the lights and press ice bags against my forhead the next morning without worry of those parental accusations such as "have you been drinking Thomas?" or "You've been drinking Thomas". Nope, I had a ticket to ride.

And I did drink...without issue actaully because American beer seems to be much lighter than Japanese beer; which leads one to wonder 'perhaps Japanese can take their beer a lot better then American's can and perhaps the whole stereotype is....

Well I've gotten tired of typing. To make a long story short I caught some kids having sex next to my bed which prevented me from sleeping there. Well then...

ソシテ…ほら!お兄ちゃん!新しいブログだ!なんで?ソシテ使い方は?説明して。ソシテ…元気かい?

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Damn you world dominating corporations, damn you...

It's horrible Alice, oh really it is. I've finally returned to the land of the brave and the free and it's just too gruesome to bare. All the shower heads are firmly attached to the walls and people daily make use of fork and spoon. I can understand all the conversations going on around me and it's simply driving me mad! It's undigestible; I fear I'm going to throw up in some Wal-mart parking lot.

I made it back to the Red White and Blue last ?Sunday?; a fresh and easy fifteen hours earlier than my friends expected me to arrive. So, sadly, there were no curvise bouncing breasts waiting for me after I exited the two hours of customs I had to endure to return and be reabsorbed into the fruited planes. Apparently with out proof of my teaching job in Japan...I'm a terrorist. So after being released I had to retreive my luggage, make change, and phone my still sleeping friends to inform them of my arrival. While the ladies trip to the airport is not entirely clear to me; I hear it involved a lot of panicked phone calls and pulling dames through windows. Oh see what they do for me! And you Alice, you do nothing.

In Seattle (I'm in Seattle) I've just been, as previously predicted, lost. I can't yet order things for myself and instictively bow whenever I get the chance. I have become seriously creeped out by all the blonde people. Albeit I myself am blonde; but I rarely saw twenty of myselves marching through the English advertised streets with smaller versions of me on their shoulders carrying balloons which would probably be blonde if god had given them the gift of hair. And what is the gift of hair?

I've been readjusting to America through telelvision programming such as "Saved by the Bell". I find the earlier years, when they're still in middle-school, remind me greatly of Japan and I thus become emotionally unstable and cry anytime something negative happens to Screech. Poor Screech; you know if you really pay attention to his voice it seems he's gotten screechier over the years...like reverse puberty. Only in America would they make a poor middle-school student go through reverse puberty. Damn you world dominating corporations, damn you...