Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Tune in Tokyo

In February, a couple of my foreign friends announced they had a school sponsored holiday in April and that they were planning on a long weekend in Japan. The sheer fact that they had three days off in a row is considered a minor miracle because they get the dogshit worked out of them though my definition of "having the dogshit worked out of you" and most people's version vary significantly. With that said, it was much to my surprise that I didn't have this special holiday off from my public school gig. Like any individual not wanting to be excluded from the fun, I did what every cheeseburger eating, labor union touting, flag waving, red-blooded American would do. I asked for the day off.

I saw this exact sign at the gates of Dachau concentration camp.

Somewhat surprise when I posed the question, Jin Sun said that we'd, well she'd, have to wait and ask the principal the next time we saw him. Since this was during my second vacation towards the end of February, I'd have to wait until school was in session. I even had a chuckle about the situation thinking that while I was on vacation, I was asking for more time off down the road. Having a good feeling about getting the green light on the day off from my beloved country school, and being continually pressured by my foreign friends, I booked a partially refundable ticket for April 10th.

Two weeks later, Jin Sun said that I indeed had permission to go to Tokyo. I told her that I was really grateful for the time off because I'd already booked the ticket a couple weeks previous. Don't worry folks. I'm doing my best to make sure that us American are, and always will be, regarded in the highest esteem.

We also made our way up Tokyo Tower to take in the monstrosity that is Tokyo from 150 meters.

It was going to be a quick Friday to Sunday trip though the trip was made even more terse by a flight malfunction. In between sitting on the ground for an hour, and NWA's inability to find us another flight, our original departure of 11:30 a.m Friday was shifted to 4:40 p.m with a reroute to Seoul and then Tokyo. By the time we made it into Tokyo after the 1.5 hour Subway ride from the airport, it was midnight.

Saturday saw a full day of sight seeing in which we travelled into the center of Tokyo (we were staying in Korea-town, go figure). If you go to Tokyo, you better have a pocket full of Yen. It's quite expensive. In Shinjuku, 4 bottles of Sake, a round of fish heads, and 3 plates of sushi came out to be 12,000 Yen (120 USD). I know I'm going to become a lightening rod for ridicule on this but I found the sushi in Hawaii to be much tastier than the stuff we had Saturday at about a fifth of the price.

From the baseball game - Bent over, Asian and wearing a backpack. Does this photo remind you of anything? All I could think of was this clip (check out 2:05)

Patrick and I really, really wanted to take in a sumo match but we caught sumo during a non-tournament time. At least the baseball team was in town though misfortune would rear her ugly, busted, head once more. Because a) baseball is really popular in Japan and b) the Hanshin Tigers, Yomuiri's nemesis, was in town. Having an actual seat was out of the question but they were selling standing room seats for 1,000 Yen (10 USD). People were atleast five people deep, and at some places it was closer to 10.

Be sure to check out my Youtube profile for some videos too

* giggles *

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


Every guy has it though most aren't aware of its existence until the skill is called on a shockingly frequent basis. It's basically the sixth sense you didn't know you had. It's the "someone is staring at my dong" sense.

I've grown accustomed to the stares in the gym and the jimjil bangs. In terms of penis, to the readers of this blog whom hasn't seen my penis (I think 10 have, 5 haven't), I've really got nothing to write home about. "Average western dong" is the term used most often by women who, in various moments of weakness and extreme vulnerability, were gracious enough to sleep with me. But my American made 1980 standard drive penis equipped with DUHC (Dual Under Head Cojones - for the non-gear heads) penis is the equivalent of a Mustang Shelby out here in Korea. Most of the time, the dudes out here operate with the "catch and release" credo when it comes to glances at my unit. Look at it, "catch" about a seconds worth and then "release" eye contact. I'm cool with this. I kind of have to be because if I wasn't, I would have left this peninsula a long time ago. To return the favor, I'll glance back and 100% of the time I'll think "sucks to be Asian."

So whilst at the bus station bathroom, when a man locked on with his peepers from three urinals down, I paid little mind. But then the seconds began to tick in my mind. Three seconds became four, four became five, and as if an eternity had lapsed twice, a full eight seconds had ticked off my internal clock. "Really?!" I thought to myself. Sick of being sexually objectified (I now know how it feels ladies and I am currently writing a form letter to mass apologize to any and all women I have wronged with merely my glassy stare), I did what any irrational western man in my situation would do. I stared right back

Much has been made of how to react in these situation. Typically, it never goes this far. Most times the slightest movement will send the perpetrators eyes back to neutral non-threatening grounds. Assuming that doesn't work, making eye contact is the defacto coup de grace.

I slowly turned my eyes, which were looking straight ahead in case anyone is looking to brush up on urinal etiquette, straight into his eyes. His eyes, both of which were intently gazing at my dong, made their way up my torso and finally to my face for which they stayed for an agonizing five seconds.

Try to stare at someone's, anyone's, genitals for a full 8 seconds. I dare you. It's excruciatingly long. Don't believe me? Rumor has it the movie "8 seconds", in which Luke Perry starred in the 90's, originally wasn't about bull riding at all. Nay, the movies initial premise was staring at a vagina for 8 seconds. Perry refused and a major script rewrite ensued. If you watch an old 90210 episode, and take careful notice as to how Dylan looks in Brandon Walsh's eyes, you will realize why Perry backed out and the awkward meet ups at the "Peach Pit" will make a lot more sense. But seriously, even if it's your best friend from cub scouts, your youth pastor, or the stripper at "Jiggles", it's really terrifying. Now imagine it's a complete stranger, in a foreign country, at a dirty bus station bathroom. The way this man stared at me you would have thought he was the sole witness to the Lochness monster climbing out of the Han River.

A bit on the shaken side, I shook off and zipped up and made my way to the sink. Thinking the situation was all but over, I relaxed and began to wash my hands. The pervert followed suit and walked to the sink next to me. While my hand were occupied with the soap and the running water, trying to cleanse my soul starting first with my hands, the peeping Tom made the boldest of bold moves. His hand ever so slowly made its way to my ass and began to rub it! I couldn't believe it! This time I nearly gave myself whiplash swinging my head left in order to make eye contact. It's probably to no ones surprise that he was displaying the most perverse and mischievous of grins. "NO!" was the only word that came out of my mouth. I tucked and ran without drying my hands. Only in Korea.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


Whenever the Koreans say or write something that is considered to be of poor English, they'll shrug and simply say "Konglish." Before I came here, I'd read blogs and forum posts about the ridiculous sayings that people would wear on t-shirts or shorts (I'm still in utter awe that native English speaking women would wear shorts that said "Juicy" across the ass). I was skeptical as to the level of their absurdity. I'm now a believer. The joke amongst my native tongued brethern is that any native speaker over the age of six could spot and subsequently correct the linguistic faux pas. The irony is that apparently no one does.

I'm not really sure about this one.

Well I wasn't before sweetheart but now that you mention it ...

I'm sure these guys would fix up your car real nice.

"Fuch's Lubricant" - tried and true.
Still makes me laugh when I think about this photo. Is still looking to dethrone "Balzac Coffee"

The single car in the back alley makes this photo.

Because "Tour de France" was taken?