JAPAN IN AUGUST IS A MISTAKE. I am a puddle. I am soup. Josh-soup. I went to the store just to stand in the freezer aisle and a little old lady hit my ankles with her basket. I deserved it! Hit me harder, obaa-san! I am too weak to fight back! I have been wearing a wet towel on my head for three days. Biga Bosso wants me in early tomorrow. I will show up in a bathing suit.
WHY IS IT STILL HOT. IT IS OCTOBER. My apartment is a sauna. I am a roasted peanut. I am a salty, sweating, 1950s gentleman who is melting into a tatami mat. Biga Bosso made me work until 11 PM. I am running on fumes and Pocari Sweat. If I die here, please tell my vintage suit collection that I loved them. *sobs into a towel* I need a vacation. I need an air conditioner. I need a miracle.
Saw Minako today. We actually grabbed a coffee. It was fine. Just… fine. 過去の影は長く伸びる。 (The shadow of the past stretches long.) See? I can be poetic! And then I realize I’m sitting across from my ex-wife whose father thinks I am a literal demon sent to ruin Japan. She chose her family, I chose my vintage ties. We smiled, we nodded, we went our separate ways. I miss being married sometimes, but I don’t miss that bulldog of a father-in-law! HA!
I’m back, baby! I’m back, you love it! *snicker* I gots me brand new domains, all new, all clean, all nice, nice? It’s too new to even have pubes yet, so cute *pets it*, soon it will have man root. curly man root. Don’t contradict me! *smack!* Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sitting in my apartment and there is NO HEAT. Why do I live in a box? Tell him to stop! Tell GOD to stop! I’m freezing my gorgeous 1950s-styled ass off. W00T!