So this weekend I leave for Japan. “Why?” you ask? Because it’s there. And also because I got drunk one night and Victor asked me if I’d go to Japan with him and apparently I said yes. This is what happens when you get drunk around Victor. You wake up in the morning and need a passport. Whenever I mention it to people they’re all “JAPAN! THAT’S AWESOME!” but to be honest I’m a terrible traveler and Japan scares the shit out of me and all I really know about Japan is that Godzilla was born there. Also, I may be mixing Japan up with China. Which I think makes me racist. Or just bad at geography. Possibly both.
Victor’s been to Japan before because he buys and sells samurai swords (I assure you, I am not shitting you) and he knows enough Japanese to get by but I am totally fucked. When I was in college I easily blew through all my classes except French, which ruined my GPA because I suck at languages. And I studied my ass off every spare minute for years just to get screamed at in French by a disappointed German teacher because it was kind of a shitty college and they couldn’t afford a real French teacher. So now I speak bad French with a German accent. It’s like Tex-Mex. But instead it’s Gerench. Or Frerman. The point here is that I can’t really do any language other than English and even then I kind of suck at it. Plus, Victor’s been drilling me in Japanese for over a month and the only thing I can remember is that “juice” is “jewwwwwzuh”. Also, I’m allergic to juice so it’s doubly pointless. And at least one day I’m totally on my own in Japan because Victor’s off doing sword stuff so I can only assume that will be the day I get lost and no one will ever see me again.
Victor: I cannot believe you still don’t know any Japanese.
me: I know “Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto”.
me: I know how to say “I tried to fart but poop came out“.
Victor: Say it.
me: Okay, I don’t *actually* know how to say it. But I totally wrote it down in case I needed it.
Victor: Why would you need that?
me: I DON’T KNOW. This is exactly why I’m so panicked. Teach me how to say “I’m a dumb American. I throw myself on your mercy. Help, please.”
Victor: Just stick with “Sumimasen”.
Victor: Sumimasen. It means “I’m sorry”. Sue – me – mah – sen
me: Huh. How do you say, “I’m sorry I burnt down your temple?”
Victor: Why would you need to say that?
Me: I like to be prepared.
Victor: Just say “Sumimasen”. It works for everything. It’s like saying “Excuse me”.
me: “Excuse me” doesn’t seem dynamic enough for what I need. How do you say “I’m so sorry I let all of your tigers out, Japan?”
Victor: Out of where?
me: Out of…Japan?
Victor: What the fuck is wrong with you?
me: I DON’T KNOW. I’M TOO FREAKED OUT TO THINK RATIONALLY. If I write down a bunch of scenarios will you translate them for me on paper and I can just hand them out? Like “I don’t want to buy your monkey” and put a picture of a monkey on it so I know that’s what it says.
Me: Because it would suck if I meant to hand someone the “Am I supposed to eat this?” card but instead handed them the “I don’t want to buy your monkey” card. Mass confusion.
Victor: Just…just stick with “sumimasen”.
Victor: No. Sue–me ma–sen.
me: Sue me I’m awesome.
Victor: No. Not even close
me: Really? Because it sounds exactly the same to me. Plus, it works in English too. Like if I fuck up I’ll be all “So sue me. I’m awesome.” It sounds like something a total bad-ass would say.
Then Victor stopped talking to me and hired a free Japanese tour guide for me to chaperon me for that day. Except she’s free so I don’t know that “hired” is the right word. “Enlisted?” Fuck. I CAN’T EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH RIGHT, Y’ALL. Anyway, some chick is supposed to take me around Japan for free and when I asked why she’d do that Victor said that the Japanese people have “a strong sense of civic duty” but it still doesn’t make sense because what is she getting out of it? Victor says she doesn’t get anything out of it except “a sense of pride in helping others” but I can’t really understand that so I’m just going to pretend she’s doing community service for drunk driving because then at least I can relate to her. Also it’s possible that she’s really part of the Yakuza Japanese Mafia and is going to kidnap me. Victor thinks I’m joking about that but I’m about about 20% sure that could happen. Also, Victor said he’d download a bunch of Japanese phrases to my iphone so I can just press a button and it’ll talk for me which sounded awesome at first because then I can hold my phone up to my throat like I can speak Japanese but I lost my voice-box to throat cancer, but then how am I supposed to understand what the Japanese people say back to me? Basically the only thing useful I can say with my fake voice-box is “I’m also deaf too. Sorry. Sue me, I’m awesome.” Victor says I’m not understanding the point but I think he just wants me to get lost and never come home again. Except it’s not going to work because when we get to our hotel I’m going to have them write their address on my arm with a sharpie so I can just show the taxi driver and pretend I’m too drunk to talk. So yeah. I do have a plan.
So then I started looking online at all the cool shit you can do in Japan but then I realized that I don’t actually have any money to do any of that stuff so I approached a few companies and asked them if they wanted to sponsor me and they all said no in a very sweet way and I won’t name names because I’m not that kind of person but I will say that #nikonhatesthebloggess. (They don’t really hate me though. That’s a joke. They just hate Japan, I guess.) But then I was all “Hang on, don’t I write for a really successful magazine/toy shop that totally gave me inflatable sheep and edible nipple pasties to give out to soldiers when I visited the Navy?” And turns out, yeah, I totally do. And so I sent an email to Eden Fantasys telling them that they spelled their name wrong and they were all “Yeah, you keep telling us that” and I told them that if they sponsored me in Japan I’d write funny stories for them about how to be a Japanese prostitute and they were all “Done“. Which is why it’s awesome to work for a company that sells flogging toys for a living. They are pretty much unshockable. Unlike Nikon. Who didn’t even want to hear about Japanese prostitutes.
So that’s why this weekend I’m leaving for Japan. Basically I’m like Christopher Columbus and Eden Fantasys is like the King and Queen of Spain backing my expedition. Except that if I remember correctly, Christopher Columbus got lost and thought he was in India the whole time he was in America. So basically if I just manage to land on the right Continent I’m better than Christopher Columbus.
This is a really long post, right? But I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to post over here while I’m in Japan so this is kind of making up for next week. You can even break this out into little pieces if you want to save it for later but I’m about to get naked. Stop now.
You didn’t stop did you? I wouldn’t either.
So since I’m writing for SexIs as an official “International Correspondent” I’m trying to find some bizarrely strange things to do in Japan that would fit in a satirical sex column and I’m all “I know! I’ll do that thing where you get naked on a table and people eat sushi off you”. Except every place I emailed in Japan refused to respond to me and I can only assume it’s because those Japanese girls are tiny so you don’t have to put a bunch of sushi on them to make it look like you’re getting a full meal but I’m an American so I’m like 3 times bigger than those tiny Asian girls so probably the sushi managers think it’d be a bad idea because it would look like the customers were getting tiny portions when they saw their sushi on me. Like when Weight-Watchers tells you to eat everything off a tiny plate because it fools your brain into thinking you’re eating more. So basically, I’m not economical to use as a plate because I’m too fat. Thanks Japan. Now I have a complex. But then I thought maybe I could convince them to change their minds by showing them how awesome I am at balancing food on me so I bought a bunch of burgers and artfully placed them on myself so I could send the sushi-restaurant-owners photos of me in action and I yelled at Victor to come help me and Victor was all “Why the hell are you naked and covered in cheeseburgers?” and I’m all “It’s for work, asshole” and he was all “I’m not getting involved in this” and I’m all “Yes you are! Come take my picture!” and he did, but he did it grudgingly and totally from the wrong angle and I’m all “No. Stand on the back of the couch so you get a good shot” and he’s all “Why are you making my life this way?!” and I’m all “What?! I’m just asking you to take a damn picture, not kill the President!” He’s very unsupportive.
Then he took the pictures and it was awesome so I sent several to the sushi restaurant owners and guess what? No response. Assholes.
Also, their models don’t usually eat at the time but I was hungry and multi-tasking because I didn’t have time to eat lunch. But I wouldn’t be doing that at the sushi restaurant, *obviously*. I understand good manners, Japan.
So if you want to keep up with me while I’m in Japan, you can check out my satirical sex column which (as always) is relatively safe for work if your boss isn’t a tremendous douche. If he is you should probably wait until you get home. Also, my parents are going to be house-sitting and watching Hailey for us while we’re in Japan and I just want to remind you that my father is a giant, Bohemian hunter who carries his own crossbow with him and mounts bears for a living. And when I say he “mounts bears” I mean he’s a taxidermist. Not…that other thing. But either way? Burglars beware.
Comment of the day: It might suck even more if you handed them “Am I supposed to eat this?” instead of “I don’t want to buy your monkey.” ~ Kelley