Revelations

Once during my solo visits to a special yaki-niku restaurant in Japan, I ate a pork jowl that was shaped like the continent of South America.

Almost There...

To be quite honest with you, I've had nothing to blog about lately. There is much that I think about on a day-to-day basis that I'm sure you'd trade your soul to Woland to discover. However, this blog is a simple blog. It is not my wish to transform this theater of thought into a chaotic, multi-thread forum where you receive my opinion on a certain topic and choose to steadfastly agree with me or excoriate me on what has become such a ridiculous arena as the internet.

Instead, I would rather post random pictures and bestow unto you some very interesting and very TRUE stories that have happened to me... (this will be the format of this blog from now until the day that I start working my new job which I have not yet been able to acquire...)



One day I brought home a stray cat. The week before I left Japan, my soccer friends were having a barbecue on the beach in honor of my imminent departure, and there was much drinking and gratuitous nudity involved (no pictures available). When a friend picked me up to take me home, I smuggled the little creature in my backpack so that it wouldn't get noticed. They say that the consumption of alcohol makes your brain compute unpredictable, out of the ordinary thought processes. In the act of drinking large quantities of Japanese beer, I somehow determined that it would be an acceptable thing to decrease the possibly ten-thousand strong population of stray cats by one.

When I got home, I promptly named him Yoshiki (芳樹）. Then I captured a large grasshopper from outside and introduced him to his would-be executioner. While Yoshiki fumbled around my apartment trying to subdue the unfortunate arthropod into a state of morbidity, I continued to drink large quantities of beer until I was aggressively summoned by friends to join them at US BOWL, a local bowling alley/karaoke bar/batting cage/arcade establishment. The night went as according to plan.

The next day after receiving legitimate advice from friends, and after truly weighing the possibilities, I decided it would be best to return Yoshiki to the original extraction point near the car park at Shizuki-yama.

I wonder if he is still alive, but at the same time rest peacefully that I got to know him, and shared with him a delightful moment in time.

New Cartoon

Bean Feast

Nothing In Particular

This is just another assortment of random pictures. I have yet to do anything worthwhile that I'm allowed to write about, so I apologize if the entry seems terse.
When I came home my first stop on the nomadic trail was to see Maya Ancilla Cruz-Griffiths, not a candidate for best hodgepodge name, but my four-month-old niece. She started crying on cue after a few minutes of perfect coddling, and I began to wonder if my way of holding her triggered the deluge of tears and incessant caterwauling. Later I just discovered she was spoiled rotten and at a tender 4 months, was already capable of recognizing and demanding that only her mother, my sister, be the one to hold her..

Besides amusing myself with making a baby cry every 15 minutes, I spent the rest of my time scrapping with two-year-old Weimaraners. The oldest, Miles, reminds me of a stoic gentleman who spends his time reflecting on his is moderately fulfilling life. Anthropomorphically speaking, if Miles were a stoic gentleman, I like to believe that his chosen profession would have to be that of a man who sold his soul in exchange for a life dedicated to the intellectual pursuit within the exciting frontiers of corporate accounting. If not a certified accountant, he would've probably been a chair umpire for the United States Tennis Association.

Besides playing with dogs and babies, I've been furiously struggling with a recent predicament: what kind of music will I listen to next? When asked, I've concluded that a proper response to the question, "What kind of music do you like," can only be respectfully and justly answered with, "The kind that I haven't heard before." I saw a very good band with a very good sound during my last days in Japan at Fuji Rock, and after browsing their website came across a few photos they had posted in a folder conveniently labeled FUJI ROCK.

To my amazement, the photos were taken from the stage looking out into the audience as well as the lush arboreal backdrop set deep within the valleys of an insignificant mountain chain in central Japan. Remembering my coveted my position in the front row, I played a lonely game of Where's Waldo, and became even more excited when I had actually located myself within the crowd of Japanese people who unfortunately did not get the jokes the lead singer made during the breaks between songs. They enjoyed themselves, linguistically challenged notwithstanding.

I have yet to find acceptable employment that suits my laid back work habits as well as the minimum level of pecuniary compensation I'm willing to receive. When in the event of this occurring, I will inform you all. In the meantime please enjoy these purposeless discourses on the peculiarities of my life.