Hobgoblin Japanese

There are a lot of these kind of Japanese people.
They spent their entire life picking rice.
I feel bad.



Bonus:
Makeshift rabbit fences have penises.

100 In shops

I don't know if other parts of the US had stores called the ".99 Cent" stores, but in Southern California we sure did.  The 99 Cent stores had a reputation too. 

Mexicans

Questionable food

Questionable Mexicans

Anyways, coming from a lower-middle middle class family we didn't really need to shop here much. In fact, the only time we went there was to pick up novel gifts for whatever reason. I remember I bought some shady looking pillow happened to end up being my fart cushion for my chair; 99 cents well spent.

Digression again. Yes, there are 99 Cent store equivalents in Japan, but they aren't of the shady caliber that they are in southern California at least.  In fact, there are quite a few and they happen to be quite popular with most of the Japanese people. In Japan, they are called 100 en ("yen") shops and lord are they fun.

In any given 100en shop there will be at least a minimum of a million different items for purchase.  These stores are crawling with tons of stupid kids toys, makeshift laundry drawers, cute faced sponges, horrible English translated products and anything else you can name under the sun.

I make it a point to pick up a new one each time I visit.

I don't know how these 100en shops survive from a business stand-point either. I mean shoplifting here would be cake, but I think the Japanese are too proper for that.

Honestly, I don't have much to say because I didn't spend enough time taking pictures of all the individual items.  Take a stroll below to see a couple more photos and imagine how many fucking things there are to buy at these places.

Crusty Dusty Japan

Coming to Japan in early March, I arrived to sea of moon faces and sterile medical masks. For the first month I was living in Japan I always wondered why the Japanese wore those damn medical masks. It reminded me of the SARs outbreak from way back when. It reminded me of this beautiful woman.

(I just wanted to use this photo)

Months later I found out that the damn near 50% of the Japanese population suffer from Hay Fever and terrible allergies thus the reason for the sea of stupid medical masks.  I suffer from asthma and terrible pollen-ous days in America damn near kill me... but here in Japan a regular pollen day has no affect on me. 

The pollen plague apparently stems from the 70s and 80s (or maybe the 60s and 70s). I'm no history major but I was told that during Japan's economic boom (post-WWII) construction began rapidly increasing. The Japanese chose the Japanese Cedar and Japanese Cypress tree to fuel the construction boom and with it they sealed their fates. During the months of February-March winds carry the pollen from these trees throughout Japan.

I'm not sure if there is anything else in the air, but whatever there is it makes for one fucking dusty ass house. Now I'm not blaming it entirely on Japan, as I've been known to shed quite a few skin cells and hair (more so than most normal people I think); However, there is no reason for the following photos below.

These before and after photos are from only a day of not cleaning... No that is not hair, nor is it food crumbs; it's dust and other shit that magically floats in through the windows. Notice the entirety of my household too.. The photo was taken, by accident, in the same spot. Photo one faces the balcony and photo two faces the door; that is the entirety of my place. WTF Japan.

But don't despair peoples there is a shinning light through all of this... and that's the boogers!!

If you're a picker like I am then you're going to have tons of fun each morning with bad boys like these:

Same nostril =D

Welcome to Japan! Happy digging!

M.A.; Moutbreathers Anonymous

Welcome welcome welcome.

Don't worry, all Westerners are welcome here.  Lets use this space to protect ourselves from the judgement of the Japanese.

A couple years back, I was at a party with a Japanese woman (first generation).  At some point in time this woman started getting upset.  She began to look for reasons to leave the party.  Shortly after, her frustration hit she left claiming that she, "couldn't handle being around all these mouthbreathers."


Bewildered, dumbfounded, and abjected, I allowed her to storm out without voicing my dejection; However, as our almighty lord Christ, the savior, would have it -- vengeance would be served.


As it turns out, the Japanese are the worst damn mouth breathers I've experienced to date and I've taken quite a few crowded subways throughout Europe and other major US cities.  No, no I haven't felt any Japanese breathing down my spine, but let me ask you how do you stench up a whole fucking sub to smell like a unbrushed mouth if you don't breath through your damn mouth?

Anyone find the tubesock I dropped?

With that said, "FUCK YOU Japanese woman from a couple years back." Good day, other Japanese people.

Editors note: If you missed the point it's actually that Japanese subs often reek of disgusting mouth smell.  I dread stepping into a train after you see a whole train full of people unload in front of you. Cheerio!

Garbage Garbage Rules

Hello.
Welcome to your new life in Japan.

Here are the rules:

Note: I'm not entirely sure if the rules above apply to our city, but the image is still a good example at how ridiculous of an effort it is to "properly" dispose of your garbge.

If you fail to follow each and everyone of these rules you WILL die... a slow painful death called global warming.  Further, the old Japanese lady will monitor your trash that you have placed outside and beat you with a stick next time she sees you doing it wrong.  Seriously, I walked past an old man one night and he saw my garbage bags.  His first reaction was to flash a glance at my foreign face and then he proceeded to make an inventory of all the items that were in the colored bags. I didn't see his reaction but I can only imagine it wasn't a pleasant one. 

Here's our example:

God knows that these drawers/cupboards/cabinets could be utilized for more important things... maybe like the rest of our shit that doesn't fit anywhere else because Japanese domiciles are so damn small.  No, I'm kidding we have tons of room, but damn these places are small.

If there was one thing in my life that I could care less about it's garbage. I mean, its name, in it and of itself, implies its importance. Don't get me wrong, I'm by no means a litter-er, but when I'm done with something I'd very much like to rid myself of it... immediately...just like how I deal with my women... Hahah, okay, not that, but maybe that too (In my defense, I never said women were akin to garbage though).

I digress.  No one wants to deal with their own dirty work more than flushing the toilet, washing dishes, or calling mom to do their own laundry, but damn Japan I laud you for your efforts.

I understand the reason for such tedious garbage measures is that Japan has very limited real estate and that burning garbage/ recycling is an important part in saving landfills (if they even have any), unicorns, and contributing less to global warming.  Honestly, I really have no idea why the Japanese make this garbage thing such an ideal nor have I done any research on it (do it yourself).

The one thing I can say about this whole garbage ordeal is that it annoying as F to carry around garbage with you in your pockets because there are NO public fucking trashcans. With that said let it be known that this trash in my pockets came from somewhere... that somewhere being the food that I just ate while walking. F you Japanese customs!! No, I'm kiding. I'm actually very sorry. That's embarrassing.

Up next: Talking shit on this whole not eating in public thing.

Gaijin Bars

The following is an accurate representation of I believe a lover of Japan would ask on his favorite Japanese Forums.

*****

Dear Big Man Japan,

I often hear that there are particular bars in Japan where Gaijins (foreigners) go and pick up on Japanese women.  Have you ever been to a Gaijin bar? Do they really exist?

Sincerely,

AnimExKingGoku89

*****

Dearest Reader Japanophile,

The fabled bars you speak of are true.  As I have attended some of aforementioned Gaijin bars three times since my arrival in Japan, I can now profess myself as having all encompassing knowledge on the subject.

Now let me tell you, oh wonderfully pockmark-faced red shirt boy, the dungeons of the Gaijin bars are not for the faint of heart.  These Gaijin bars have honed their illusory skills over the years to entice us foreigners into patronage.  They start with the simple English (in the most strictest sense -- UK) names: The Hub, Elephant's Nest, etc. Further, they decorate their interiors with warm inviting pub-style decor.  Lastly, they sprinkle their wares with household American beers like the good ole silver bullet (Coors Light), Bud Light, Budweiser, Corona, etc.  All these efforts are in attempts to lure hapless sheep into the jaws of the prey.

Yes, that was a metaphor.  In mother Japan Gaijins don't pick up Japanese, Japanese pick up you!

Ok, maybe its not that bad, but in my experiences its pretty bad.  These bars are being prowled by melting Japanese thirty somethings lying saying that they're 29 to lure us into their STD infected traps. Often being in the bar alone is enough to have a group or two of women approach you to "sit with you and speak English." I personally am not one to settle for something that I don't want so I've been putting a new meaning to playing it cool when frequenting these places.

All in all you there is hope for you to get laid; so please come on out.

Love,
Big Man Japan

Wolves

The night was long and the battle hard fought, but we were victorious.

The wolves were invading; they sensed our weakness for the Japanese tatami floors, over glorified seat cushions of a bed called futons, pidgin ceiling fucking, and lack of heating. They crept out from the 5th basement floor of the Nagoya train station.

Weaving in and out of the food stalls of unidentifiable foods, mini-mall shops, and millions of unrecognizable moon faces that littered the basement of the train station they made their way to our concrete fortress; The wolves could sense our fear. They tore through the flights of stairs to reach our stronghold -- Apartment #1405 14th floor. We were prepared. Our stronghold was reinforced with un-insulated aluminum doors. We thought that they wouldn't be able to make it past our bunker door and, in the event they did, we prepared another booby trap; a shoe-taking-off platform. Yes, they would be stuck because entrance would not be allowed unless shoes were to be removed. Silly wolves, animals don't wear shoes.

It was 4 am; Japan time. I sat wide awake jet lagged in my six tatami mat sized room. Peering outside my wood sliding door/closet-like door I saw them... the homesickness wolves... waiting at our shoe-taking-off platform. We were safe. They would have to retreat until they learned how to properly remove their shoes. I would be able to sleep peacefully for two hours now.

Until that time comes, I can call this city my new home...

Welcome to Nagoya Big Man Japan.

Serious posts to follow...

Side Note:

This post alone took me an extra shitton of clicks because Google decided that since I am in Japan I can read Japanese thus changing all the dashboard settings... not to mention all their directed ads are in Japanese as well.

Konnichiwa Bitches

I can't sleep...

Maybe it's because I've been on the drugs for the last three weekends.

Maybe it's because I'm sleeping among discarded clothing, cigarette ashes,and assorted accumulated filth on our Vegas hotel room floor.

Maybe it's because I've decided to change the direction of my life for the first time in the last six years.

Yeah... I'm probably up because of all the ecstasy and booze, but I'm definitely writing this because I'll be off on a magical journey that doesn't require drugs to seem surreal.

ENTER REAL LIFE.

At 25, any Baby Boomer/ Gen X parent expects their child to already have found themselves a career and permanently entered the workforce; However, as a fellow Gen Y I can't say that that's the case. I've spent the last six years dedicating myself to a profession/craft/what-have-you to something I could care less about and now I've finally decided to make a change.

I'M MOVING TO JAPAN.

Yes, a sheltered little southern California suburbanite is packing his bags to return to the Motherland.

With that said, I've been asked by my fellow comrade in arms, Vladmir, to contribute my musings, findings, and outright Japanese insanity whilst trying to survive the Land of the Rising Sun.

BIG MAN JAPAN; OUT.