Tag Archives: drinking

The Barkeep with the Javilin Tongue

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Cow TongueDo you remember when you first turned 21? That year may not have any special meaning for some of you, but in the states, it’s just about the most special birthday you’ve got. It is the day you are legally allowed to purchase alcohol. I remember this important time of my life very well. Well actually, I don’t remember it well at all. I was fucking wasted for most of it. But I do remember one specific incident. This incident was so shocking, so traumatizing, that it shot me out of my drunken stupor and made my brain remember. Oh crap, thinking about, this actually happened when I was 22, but shit man, I still wasn’t over turning 21! That bit is totally relevant!

Anyway, It was the summer of 2009, fresh out of college and not caring about anything future related, except absolutely fuck-tard wasted tonight and every night. I was out with my friend on a random weekday. We were drinking margaritas when my friend had the brilliant idea of going to the local dive bar. I hated that bar, but being pretty wasted already off of cheap Mexican tequila, I agreed happily. When we got to the bar it was pretty dead, but you know, it was a dive bar, and it was some random ass weekday. Couldn’t really blame the shithole. My friend was friends with everyone who had ever entered this bar, including the bartender, so we sat at the bar and started talking to her.

Let me describe this bartender to you for a moment. She wasn’t a thin woman. No, actually she was pretty large. She was also in her 50’s and married. Oh, and dreadfully ugly.

Continuing on, my friend was off playing pool or something and I was left with barkeep. She had made up some amazing concoction she labeled simply “the shit” and she was offering them for free, since she was pretty drunk herself of the incredibly alcoholic monstrosities.

So we were talking, and she was telling me about her kids, and about her long life… and she was listening to me, a recent college graduate blabbering on about being young and stupid. Her eyes grow larger after each passing minute.At the time I didn’t know what this meant, probably because she was jealous of my youth. But seriously, I was too drunk to possibly be making any sense to her, what could she of possibly found so interesting? Well, I soon found out.

How what I am about to say came to be I cannot say, but before I knew it this bartenders tongue was in my mouth. Now let me make this clear, I was not fighting this. Probably because I couldn’t. This tongue she had, guys, it was like a javelin. Rock hard, pointy edged, this thing could pierce armor. She had this in my mouth, exploring, cutting my gums. It was the most incredible and most horrible thing I have ever experienced. She was a fat, married, ugly 50 year old, with a weaponized tongue, and I made out with her.
Female tounges.
Being completely deadbeat wasted, I was pretty pleased with myself right after it ended. My friend even came over to congratulate me. However, the next day the realization of what I did came over me, and a sort of a sick feeling came over my body… like I had been raped. Maybe I had been, maybe I hadn’t, but it definitely wasn’t a fine moment in the life of Maxim.

So anyway, yeah. Nothing else to say. Enjoy that.

-Maxim

Culty Kyushu

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Kyushu MapI had a couple of three day weekends over the past month and I decided to take advantage and go on a nice three day and two night vacation. The destination? Kyushu, one of the four major Japanese islands. Since coming to Japan I have only visited two of the these islands, Honshu and Shikoku, and to eager to discover some new places. So how was my trip? Well, the easiest way to describe it would be to say… it was very culty. That’s right culty. It would be easy for the untrained eye to walk across this island and not see anything particularly out of the normal other than the usual Japanese idiosyncrasies. However, what I witnessed in my three days traveling around this large island was frightening to say the least.
Fukuoka Food Stands
The first five minutes after arriving were normal enough, me and my travel companion had to kill time between our train arrival and our bus departure in Fukuoka, the biggest city on the island. We decided to walk around and search for some illusive street venders which were supposedly famous in the city. We couldn’t find one. Very curious indeed. How could a city famous for its food on the street, have none anywhere to be found? Cult activity? Hmmm.

On our way back from our long walk we stumbled upon a large Buddhist temple. The temple seemed pretty popular since loads of cars were going in and out. They even needed a guy directing traffic outside. Thinking it was possibly some famous attraction in the city, we went inside the walls. It took us ten seconds to figure out something wasn’t quite right. This was no temple, it was more like an office complex, with weird symbols gilded on every orifice. A sudden feeling of dread took over me. Flash backs to my own cult experience filled my mind as we ran past the guard to get out of there. Did I mention that the cult I had joined was founded in Kyushu? Did I tell you that? It’s kind of important. Anyway, my friend informed me that since we had entered the grounds, the tracker implants that my cult had injected into me unknowingly, had probably triggered alarms at the main cult base, and that they would be after me. Crap! In the end, no secret cult agents came pouring out to get us, but the idea did keep us on edge for the rest of the vacation.
Saigondenji Temple
The next incident came during our second day of vacation. We were chillin’ around an active volcano called Mount Aso. We were walking around the area when we came across the ruins of an old Buddhist temple. My friend, being a real working archeologist, did a quick survey of the area. After about a minute he was able to determine the cause of its destruction, fire. We couldn’t say when it burned down but it was fairly being that all the trees and were burnt to shit and the ground all the metal around was warped to all hell. We thought about the nature of fire for a second. Fire…fire…fire… We looked at each other and quickly came to the same realization. Fire? Burned down Buddhist temple? Those dirty cults, they struck again. You could feel the sacrilege in the air, the hatred, the suffering. Needless to say we got out of there real quick.
Ken-chans
Next incident. On that same day we set up camp in a town called Takachiho. The area is famous for its place in Japanese mythology. We found a hotel quickly enough, and even did a little sightseeing before we decided to get unhealthily drunk. We had eyed an interesting looking bar/restaurant (called an “izakaya” in Japan) when we arrived, so we decided to go honor the funny looking establishment with our patronage. We went inside and was greeted by a man wearing large glasses with perfectly circular lenses, and a greased back 1950’s style yakuza haircut. He directed us to the counter. The very large barkeep, and owner of the place, was quick to inform us that he was a karate and boxing master, and to look at the photos of himself plastered all over the restaurant. Most of the photos were idealized pictures of the bartender in a sea of clouds wearing traditional garb and inspirational messages written in large fonts. Not only was this picture all over the bar, but on three or four large flags waving in the wind outside. It was obvious at that point that we had walked right into a cult base. We finished our food and drink and got out as soon as we could, not after cautiously accepting a clear unknown drink from the man which may have been brainwashing potion.

We had planned to get out of the cult populated town early the next morning, but the bus we planned to get on was conveniently full. We had to wait for another five hours for the next one. We decided we probably shouldn’t stay in one place to avoid detection, so we began circling around the area, not frequenting one place for more than a half hour. However, when we stopped to eat in a place we chose for its lack of customers, as soon as we sat down a group of young people came in. They numbered seven and by the looks of them (skinny jeans, bandanas, and long hair) they were trouble. For a while none of them did anything suspicious and we were beginning to feel a little bit at ease, but then came the look. A girl, the obvious leader of the group, sporting wild long black hair and fake eyelashes, turned her head and began to stare at us, mouth slightly opened, eyes wide. I looked at her back, but she continued to stare. A staring contest ensued. I nodded at her, a “ok, please stop staring at me now” sort of desperate nod. She nodded back, but she wouldn’t look away, mouth still slightly open. She was salivating. My heart beat faster. I was scared. I was no match for her mouth derived powers. We quickly ran out of the store, but the cult outriders were soon on our backs. They chased us around until we begged a passing bus to let us on. We never would of gotten away if we hadn’t suddenly became parkour masters. Driving away we could see them dissolve into cultish mist through the back window.

The time finally came for our bus, and we were glad to leave. It was the scariest experience of our lives. How could an island as big as Kyushu be so densly populated by crazy cultists who want to burn us at the stake? Needless to say, I’m back safe in the normal Japan, where you find only the occasional cult. It’s a good feeling to be alive after a brush of death. Won’t be going back anytime soon…unless… unless they tracked my movements back here. Woah. I forgot about the tracker. Crap, better hide.

See you next time?

-Maxim

Ken-chan
Ken-chans worker

Sleepy Saturdays: Drinking Strange Liquids

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Hmm…..I wonder whats in the glass? Looks pretty good. These beautiful kiwis sure look…happy…scared? What could the mystery liquid be?

Oh, okay. It’s made from this you say? Strange white liquid. Interesting. I like many white liquids… Milk…calpis….glue. Those women are drinking something like that, right? What’s that? It’s milky but it’s not milk? No, it couldn’t be….

WHAT!? Horse semen!? Those three girls are drinking shots of horse semen? You say it tastes like custard? Sweet jesus.  People do a lot of strange things in this world, but the guy who first tasted his horses semen and discovered it tasted like custard is not right in the head. Though what can you expect, people sleep with horses, the next logical step is drinking their semen.

This is all true by the way.

Link to article: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/22/horse-semen-shots-custard_n_882053.html

Coming Out of the Closet (Kinda)

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Okay, so I’m an asshole. I can’t get away from it. I love to make fun of people and I love make them feel horrible about themselves. It’s like a social African safari with me. You have the weak little zebras and gazelles, and you got the fucking lions. Not to boast, but I’m definitely a fucking lion. Now, it’s not always, black and white, lion and gazelle. Most of the times there are levels in between, like hyenas, or vultures, or elephants. The difference is, lions actively seek out and kill the gazelles. Those other freeloaders start picking at the corpse once you’re done. No, you don’t have to be a terribly strong person to be a lion, you just got to act like one. So if some poor person gives me the opportunity to make an ass out of them, eight times out of ten I’ll probably take it. It’s a bad habit, but I can’t help it.

So back on topic. There was this gazelle, no, not even a gazelle. Gazelles at least run away. This guy was a sheep or something. He was a self proclaimed introvert that introduced himself to me one day at a bar. And so the story begins…

Most times when you make fun of someone, they do one of two things. Take it like a man and make fun of themselves with you, or leave/not want to hang out with you anymore/hate you. But there are also people who just don’t get it. They just don’t understand that that they are the butt of all the jokes. That we’re not laughing with them, we’re laughing at them. Yes, he was that guy. But you know, once I got started thinking about this guy I realized, without this guy, the nights were not nearly as fun. So I would call him to go out with the specific reason just to make fun of him. Yes, I am that much of an asshole. My friends were already over it, but I just couldn’t get enough.

We didn’t just make fun of him directly. We would lie to him. We would create personalities. We would perform elaborate plays. I was the jew-hating racist, and my friend was my partner in hate-crime. This guy would passively listen to most of our personalities, simply dismissing our rouse as “not intelelectual enough for (his) participation”, sometimes throwing in the “Are you guys being serious?”. However, when it came to me and my friend talking about our violent love affair, or our escapades in bed, he got all in a huff. He loved women, and only women,e he proclaimed. He did not want to hear of our “disgusting and unnatural” talk of homosexual love. Yes, he was one of the most homophobic people I had ever met. Naturally, since this bothered him the most, we pushed it the most.

Sadly to say he moved away after about six months. Yes, it was sad but we got over it pretty quickly. Here’s where the story gets interesting.

Zoom ahead six months to now. I’ve had absolutly no contact with this kid since he left. Then out of the blue I get a call from him. I didn’t pick up. I was done with this guy. He called again 10 minutes later. Hmm, no. Not picking up that one either. He called again. Didn’t pick up, BUT, it got my mind wondering. “WTF?”, I thought. “Is this kid ok? Am I his one phone call from the police station? Is he out for vengence? Is he standing in front of my apartment with an axe?” I couldn’t possibly imagine what this kid would want from me after 6 months. I mean, he wasn’t exaclty the most social guy ever, but I’m sure he had found someone in that big city he moved to to annoy. My curiosity got the better of me, and I called him back. I’ll try to cronical the conversation the best I can.

Me: Hey, how are you?
Him: Hey, I’m good. How’s life over there?
Me: Same as it’s always been I guess.
Him: You know I’m over here in the city now.
Me: Yeah, I know, I know.
(small talk)
Him: Okay, let me jut get to the point
Me: Okay…
Him: Remember 4 or 5 months ago you invited me out to drink at…what was that bar again? Saylaaa….seeelaa….
Me: Swla. (Pronounced soola)
Him: Yeah, Swla. Remember that?
Me: 4 or 5 months ago?
Him: Yeah, you made a comment to me to the effect that you wanted me to go with you on the last train back to your neighborhood to stay over…
Me: Wait…what? Can you say that again?
(at this point i’m thinking he needs a place to stay)
Him: You know, you invited me out, and you wanted me to come with you on the last train to your apartment.
Me: Okay, sure…
Him: Ok, I’ll just say it. Were you coming on to me?
Me: Um…..what do you mean?
Him: I mean were you actually coming on to me?

At this point it all comes back. After months of not speaking to this guy, I had forgotten the extent in which I had preformed my act in front of him. I didn’t remember the specific episode he was talking about, but I had certainly alluded to him many times that I wanted to…do him… Not really, just to bother him… you know…since he was so…homophobic… At this point I had to decide on whether to continue the act, or to just tell him straight up we were making fun of him the whole time. I chose the middle path, like Bhutan.

Me: Yeah, man. I don’t know. It was a long time ago.
Him: Yeah it was.
Me: So, man. I dunno, it’s been a really long time. Have you been thinking about this for a while?
Him: Not that much.
Me: I just mean, you call me out of the blue when I haven’t seen or spoken to you for 6 months. It must of been on your mind a lot.
Him: I’m just curious. I’m a curious person.
(he changes the subject)
Him: So how’s your girlfriend? Things going good?

Couldn’t get a straight answer out of him, but by now it was pretty obvious. It’s always the most homophobic people. We talked a little bit more. Sensing I really couldn’t contain myself anymore, I decide to end the conversation.

Me: Yeah, I should go. I’m kinda busy right now. I’m working on my blog.
Him: Seems like everyone has blogs these days.
Me: Yeah, but it’s a comedy blog, it’s not really about me so much (Except now). Thinking maybe I want to get into comedy.
Him: If you can make me laugh right now you can be a comedian.
Me: No, not like stand up, more like well thought out, written material.
Him: Make me laugh right now and you can be a comedian.
Me: I…can’t….
Him: I just crushed your dreams.
Me: I really got to go…
Him: Ok. If you ever need a random friend to talk to, or a place to vent, give me a call.
Me: Thanks…you too man.
Him: You shouldn’t of said that! Haha!
Me: ha..ha.. Bye.
Him: Bye.

And that was it. I can’t believe he was brooding over this for months. It’s kind of sad really. That I was the guy he half came out to. Makes me think that I should try and fix my assholeish ways to aovid things like this in the future. Nah. It’s sad but its still hilarious.

Till next time.

-Maxim