Hrmph, I meant to post on Friday and then totally forgot, overwhelmed by the delicious power of Sleep. On Saturday the internet was down, so that one wasn't my fault. But so it goes.
I went to revolving sushi again on Friday, and decided that I would give in and try some of the crazy things I had always spurned like the plague, particularly this hilariously IN THE NUMBER ONE AMERICAN STYLE hot dog sushi. It was like someone took a perfectly delicious hot dog, tortured it until it bled an inedible ketchup-like substance, then lashed it firmly to a log of rice with a cruel band of seaweed before casting it adrift in a revolving sea of thinly sliced fish. I cringe at the memory of consuming it.
But, happily, below is a photo of someone else eating something even more disgusting; in fact, it is so much worse that any serious comparison between the two may just destroy the world.
I spent any number of hours walking up and down and to and from the shopping district in town this weekend, for what reason I have no idea. In any case, I now have some real winter clothes to the tune of: one fleecy shirty thing, two sweaters for convenient layering, three turtlenecks, and a turtleneck sweater. Of course, I only bought the first two this weekend, the rest being an accumulation over about two years. The fleecy shirty thing boldly tempts fate by being cream white, which means that it will get covered in stains faster than O.J.'s leather gloves.
I also bought plates at the hundred yen shop downtown because I was tired of using plastic bags like a hobo with a vegemite fixation. I also bought forks and knives, because using chopsticks for everything makes me feel like a neanderthal unable to think in more complex shapes than Stick. I went to mass today and had the ghost of June Cleaver exorcised out of me, which begins to explain all the cleaning, plate-buying, cutlery-buying and whatnot, but does not at all explain the doomsday-prophesying and lifetime-supply-pf-toilet-paper-buying. Or does it?
By the way, there is a thrilling discussion going on in the guestbook that can only be explained as Ovary Mania, which apparently spreads like the bubonic plague or the Backstreet Boys.
I have no idea what the creatures pictured to the right actually are. My bet is alien seeder beasts, but I'm not strictly sure. Anyway, poor Wu volunteered to eat one; We buried him in a shallow grave next to the shop. He thought it tasted nasty, incidentally.
I also conned Wu into recording that pick-up line onto my phone, so I now have it saved for all of eternity in pricelessly accented Wuglish. I made it my ring tone, so now my phone comes onto me everytime I get a message.
- Gyaa! I'm give up
Naka-ku, Hiroshima
730-0803
JAPAN
But he did.
