Sleepy Saturdays: Old Man is a Beast

Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of Sleepy Saturdays, where you get some thing I thought was funny after a night of heavy Friday drinking. I’m getting the feeling I do as much of these now then regular blog entries! My bad I guess.

This week, we have a frickin’ beast of an old man. This guy is 100 years old, sprinting and running marathons. Can you believe that? He is bigger than Jesus in my eyes. Check him out!

I’m pretty sure he runs faster than I do. How sad is that? Bigger than Jesus, guys. Bigger than Jesus…

Have a great Saturday!

-Maxim

Old Guy

Culty Kyushu

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

Getting Out of Fights

I have never fought anyone. That’s right, other than my brother when we were kids, I have never been on the receiving end of any punches, kicks, or tackles, nor have ever given them. So why is that? If you have read anything on this blog you should know by now that I am not a nice guy. I am an asshole. I make people angry. I’m an instigator. I’m the type of person who pisses people off enough to get them to want to fight you. Now don’t get me wrong, that has happened on a number of occasions, but it never escalated into fights involving me. Nope not me… just other people.

I have come up with a series of defenses. Now I don’t want you to think I’m running away. These are just natural defenses that come out when shits going down; I can’t control em. I really would love to get into a fight and dole out some of my divine justice, It just ain’t happening. These defenses are seriously full proof. Here are two good ones.

The Pee Defense: This one’s pretty easy. When someone is pissing you off, say an inflammatory comment loud enough for the person to hear. Right after you say it, head to the bathroom and take a piss. Example: When I was in college, a drunken brigand friend of our roommate came over to our house. We had just finished up a party and we all wanted to get some sleep. But this extremely drunk tall muscular soccer player wouldn’t stop playing beer pong, and was being loud and annoying. So I made some comment rather loudly to my friends to the effect of “This cockass douchebag needs to get the fuck out of here right now”. I was also pretty drunk and had been holding back a whole bunch of pee. So I said what I had to say, and headed to the bathroom immediately. I was pulling down my pants in the stall when I heard the yelling outside. I stopped my flow, pulled up my pants without zipping, and ran outside to see what was going on. My large football player friend and that drunken brigand were at each others throats. My large football player swiftly dodged some punches and pushed him out of our house. Me? I was on the side jumping up and down cursing at him, but not fighting. After he was out of the house I stood by the window and gave him the finger for a while. After thing died down, I asked my roommate what had happened and he told me that the annoying guy had mistakenly thought that my friend had said my comment and got attacked. It’s not that I didn’t want to stand behind my words, I just really go to pee and missed my chance.

The Smiling defense: I’m not an angry asshole. You’ll never see me lash out at someone in anger. I have fun with it. People don’t usually stand around and watch if you’re in an establishment fighting. So if you run over and look at two people arguing and and see one happy guy and one angry guy, you know who started the aggression, right? Anyway here’s another story. I was at a bar with a couple of friends. We had observed some older weird guys in tuxedo’s wandering around the bar trying to pick up girls. They were failing miserably. Later that night after they had given up, one was sitting at the bar, so while I was ordering my next drink, I started a conversation with him. I started it with something like, “Not having much luck with the ladies tonight, are ya”? We talked a bit, he told me he was I doctor, I told him he looked pretty pathetic in that tuxedo; needless to say, it devolved from there. It got to the point where he threatened me with a blade he “had”, and I threatened him with a gun I “had”. The bartender overheard the rising tensions and he called over the bouncer. And since I had an innocent gleeful smile on my face during the whole time, and he looked like a maniac, the bouncer very physically kicked him out of the bar. I was safe, and I got out of another fight.

So if you’re ever want to be a real dick to someone but are afraid they’ll kick your ass for it, just utilize those two strategies and you’re golden! Good luck to you all!

-Maxim