Nothing says good person like posting pictures of friends in extremely drunken poses where they can be seen by dozens of strangers. Still, this picture is a priceless piece of comedic genius and as such is too good to keep to myself.
Have I mentioned that mandarin oranges are like little balls of joy whose goodness is only barely contained by the cheerily colored peel that struggles to harness the power of the 60-megaton taste bomb that is the juicy deliciousness inside? Well, it's true. In that they are readily available here at a very reasonable price, I have to say that the lowest, non-hyperbolic estimate for the number of them I've eaten since getting here would have to be approximately 13 gadzillion times infinity cubed.
I've been listening to the Cardigan's "Life" a good deal lately, and I now thoroughly regret the tepid words I wrote about it after the first time I listened to it. It is in fact a ridiculously enjoyable example of the Extremely Peppy Period of the Cardigan's style, which for those fictional but nonetheless extremely interested Cardigans-loving readers includes the three albums before "Gran Turismo," which marks the start of their Mellow and Moody Period, which is best served lightly grilled with a nice red wine.
Several weeks ago, the manager of the building expressed an interest in eating "those beans that John Wayne ate in Westerns," i.e. baked beans, as he has apparently wanted to try them since he was a kid and just never got around to asking anybody before. My grandmother brought me a couple of cans when she visited, so today I held a big baked bean feast with all the building staff and a couple of my friends. Wow, you say, nothing says hardcore crib stylin' like feeding a bunch of salarymen a nice homecooked meal after a long day's work. It's all for the ladies, dog. Peace out.
- Gyaa! I'm give up
Naka-ku, Hiroshima
730-0803
JAPAN
