Deep breath.. and relax.

Jenny is happy I found my bicycle too!
Okay, my bicycle was found. Good thing too, because my crate of ammunition, illegally smuggled in via the trans-siberian railroad from the former soviet union, hasn`t yet arrived. So these little punks get to live a little bit longer.
In short, my bicycle was found by a shop keeper thrown in a trash heap behind his store (an establishment that at first glance looks like a travel agency, but upon closer inspection, everyone is revealed to be wearing masseuse-like white jackets with short sleeves, carefully starched pockets and high mandarin collars). Don`t ask, I know it`s a strange combination. Then again, it got me thinking – what two industries go better together than that!? I mean, after a long stressful trip, you can return to where it all got started and get yourself all nice and relaxed with a professional massage! It`s like a beautiful little zen circle of complete harmony.
Three beautiful gals pose for a picture over okonomiyaki of dubious quality.
Anyway, the bike is slightly damaged (the lock was still intact, though it looks like they may have tried to ride it with the long still on?) – derailer somewhat banged up, front fork creaking and flexing a bit – and more importantly, I had to take a taxi to go get it (1500 yen out of my pocket, since the guy sort of politely, but firmly suggest I come that night to go retrieve my poor baby). So while it`s a hell of a lot cheaper than buying a new bike, it still doesn`t make me happy. So while I may not stab the poor bastard who stole my bike, you can bet if I ever do find out who he or she is, I will at least push them down some stairs / into uncoming traffic or something.
Another lovely lady, this time inexplicably accompanied by a panda.
But much overjoyed by the return of my two wheeled panda pedaler, I found my conscience free to participate in much festivities over the weekend – nothing exciting, but it made the sake taste all the sweeter.
When we party, we party hard, and it`s only natural that some weaker souls may not be able to keep up. Case and point, I give you exhibit A:
In the distance, Kat shouts “Poor form Jo!! Poor form!!”
But before you raise your voices in protest that perhaps I am being to harsh on my dear friend, allow me to point out that small children lasted longer than she did (as to what a small child was doing in a seedy gaijin bar at 3am, I offer no credible explanation). Of course, when that poor boy crashed, he did so hard core. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you exhibit B:
I have to give him credit for being able to sleep through the racket!
I hold very little doubt that it is experiences like this that will mold this small, tender mind you see passed out before you into the horrible terrifying mulleted wanna-be-B-boy punks that attend my school. Everyone knows you should be at least 9 years old before you`re ready to go to a bar!! Shame on these Japanese mothers…!
For those of you who can`t wait long enough to know what will happen to this small child in the future, I will give you a preview, here, in exhibit C:
Not going anywhere for a while? GRAB A SNICKERS! ;)
He will become this (that?) guy. Walking home, decided he couldn`t make it all the way to the taxi stand, and instead decided to lay down right here on this nice concrete bed in front of a store and take a little snoozer. I laughed once as I walked past him, sort of glanced back over my shoulder after I`d gone a few paces past, then, feeling a twinge of guilt and responsible citizenship (well, a twinge of 3-year working-visa-holdership), I decided to go back and poke him in the ribs a few time to see if he was still alive. He was, and having satisfied my addled mind that I had done something sort of good for the day, I subsequently nicked his wallet and took this picture.
What was it that could have taken down all these young, strapping revelers? Perhaps it was exhaustion from working too hard that week. Perhaps it was internal stresses as they wrestled with the infangible mysteries of the universe that confront us all. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was exhibit D:
I was at the bar with my drinking team – and it was me, Jack Daniels and ma homie Jim Beam…
So that is ummm… (and I use the word lightly), a “shot” of tequila. Actually, it is what is left of the so called “shot” after Kurt had already taken one of what we normal mortals refer to as a “shot”. As for the rest of us, to speak plainly, that is a big as glass filled with an unusually large amount of tequila for 600 yen (or one person, for that matter). Granted, it has some ice in it, but we still got a good 3.5 shots out of each order. The problem? We ordered four shots up front, without realizing their “huge-assness” as someone put it. Doing the math, that`s 14 shots of tequila for two people. Bad news. Of course, being good friends, we all pitched in and helped out, but still…
And what has our smug panda-commentator been doing as all his friends are falling down on the streets and passing out in huge whiskey glasses of tequila? Well, I`m not sure, but I`m told that at some point it might make it up on the APRE website (what is this world coming to when even your local bar has a blog…!!!?) (not up yet, though I`m holding out hope that some pictures might reveal me to be in the company of those fine Aussie shielas…). Also, searching through my camera, I found this, the fifth and final exhibit E, which shall now be presented without comment:
I have been informed that the person in the middle IS A MAN…
Now reading: “Stephen Hawking – The Universe in a Nutshell”.
Nobel prize winning theoretical physicist and accomplished gangsta rapper…
8:15 am

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