Cross the line

I’m a tolerant person when it comes to Japanese people interacting with foreigners (such as myself). I patiently answer their questions about where I’m from and why I’ve come to Japan (for the 9001st time even), I don’t complain about hello-harassment and I smile at the people who stare at me. I humbly reply to people complimenting my Japanese and help out people struggling to talk to me in English (despite them not knowing any).

Just the other day I had a hearty laugh with a co-worker when we were on our way to a meeting, and while I was waiting for him taking a piss at a park’s public toilet, some little girls happened to start practicing English just next to me (but never talking to me). My co-worker could hear them through the restroom doors and I think that was his first time witnessing what it’s like to be a foreigner outside of a “safe” environment (such as at work).

However, last week I got a text message that crossed the line.


Inviting people to your wedding

Due to the ever-growing number of the years behind me in life, I’ve had the experience (pleasant or unpleasant aside) of seeing many people of my generation marry. With the social networks letting us peek into lives of people on the other side of the world this should come as no surprise.

What did surprise me though is what my idea is of a certain matter and what actually happens. It’s like having a culture shock with humanity in general.


Stamina limit in games

I’ve always wondered why would games use the stamina limit at all. No, not really. The reason is obvious: let users play some, then make them pay if they want to play more. That makes perfect sense – it’s just that in a world where there are so many ways to waste your time for free, having to pay for it seems like a bit of a stretch to me. If I look at games I got hooked on to and then stopped playing for good, most of them had the stamina limit.



I would like to take this opportunity to express my deepest despise and utmost scorn towards the two beloved guardians of the law who thought I had nothing better to do at 2.30am riding my bike home from work exhausted mentally and physically, than to have a good 20 minutes of “chat” with them. From my heart I wish them a bull’s bulging boner between their buttocks and beyond.



I’m not a whisky person. Generally they’re too strong to sip and taste, but who even drinks whisky in shots? Adding water or making it into a highball feels wrong – as if I turned it into something else. So if I drink whisky, it’s on the rocks.

Last night I visited the jazz bar Blue Note with a friend. Brenna Whitaker was on stage, and whisky was in our hands. I picked a Lagavulin 16 year old because the name had that nice single malt scotch sound to it.

Lagavulin 16 @ Tokyo Blue Note