A: Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Ms Juniper. B: Thank you, Mr Vila. Likewise! A: Oh, please call me Bob. B: Thank you, Bob. Please call me Jane. A: I will, Jane! As often as I can! B: Ha, ha! Well, I’m afraid that Mr Masher is going to be tied up in … Continue reading Workplace Dialogue Number 42-A3
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Format Change
Those few people who follow this blog may at some point have asked themselves what the hell it is I am up to. This is a valid question. Basically, the content is all over the place, and little or no effort has been made to organize it, or my wider approach, into something more cohesive.I … Continue reading Format Change
The Bright Side
Things might look bad right now, but the important thing is to remember… that thing. You know, that important thing. With the feelings and stuff. Shit. Maybe if I go back into the room where I first thought of it, I’ll remember. No. Oh well, I guess if it’s really important it’ll come back to … Continue reading The Bright Side
Abroad
I sometimes reflect on my life and wonder: at what point did I stop living abroad? It’s not as dumb a question as you might think. I am, and have consistently been, aware of what country I live in. The question concerns my perceptions of where I live in relation to where I am from. … Continue reading Abroad
On Japanese Wives
First of all: shame on all of you who read the title of this piece in a dirty-minded, lascivious way! Shame! Now, if we can get our mind (at least slightly) out of the gutter. There are those who think Japanese women are demure, passive, and subservient. As a husband to a Japanese wife, I … Continue reading On Japanese Wives
Move
This here's a bit of a shout at any youngsters who have the privilege of living in a free country that isn't an active war zone.As you mature, you may start to suspect things that make it difficult to accept where you are. That your teachers and elders don't know shit and yet are completely … Continue reading Move
Party Time
One time I was at a little backyard fire pit party thrown by this Japanese pot fiend in Vancouver. One of the guests was a Russian pseudo-gangster (maybe a real G, it's hard to tell sometimes). The Japanese guy was friends with the Russian because he couldn't understand what a total douche the guy was, … Continue reading Party Time
Dumpster Fire Chique
A huge industrial dumpster. Plumes of toxic black smoke roil out of it into the sky over tongues of orange flame. Nubile models with dead sooty eyes feed the flames with pitchforks from atop piles of designer goods. Gucci. Louis Vuitton. Hermes. Handbags. Clothes. Shoes. All speared and thrown to the flames. At one end … Continue reading Dumpster Fire Chique
Glittery Gobs
Maybe it’s just me, but a lot of gold tinsel on a Christmas tree makes it look like King Midas has spent a week jerking off onto it.
Papa on Tickling
Papa. My grandfather.He was full-on German. And by full-on, I mean full-fucking-ON.Born and bred Prussian aristocracy: a real Von from Berlin. I'm not bragging, it just is what it is, and very relevant to who he was. Unless you've been pinned under the gaze of a man who's had that kind of upbringing, you can't … Continue reading Papa on Tickling