The hectic schedule I've been running for this month between finalizing my visa and work hit it's peak this week. All the running around left little time for meals. Luckily though I had a very satisfying yaki-niku (do it yourself japanese bbq restaurants) meal to celebrate my visa on Monday. Kaori and I had agreed not to eat there until I received my status, and so when I did we spoiled ourselves by ordering the more primes choices of meat. Each order brought us choice cuts of harami and rosu. Each bite a triumph of the taste-buds. A meal that will be fondly recollected when I become infirmed with age and take meals thrown into a bender and poured tragically into a glass with a straw.
Tonight the meal came into my memory in a matter least expected. After taking a seat on the electronically warmed seat I adjusted myself slightly to minimize splash damage and to optimize rectal to bowl delivery. As the familiar feeling of ejection befell my posterior I was surprised at a sudden shake of the floor. Was it an earthquake? Perhaps a neighbor adjusting furniture in another apartmet? As I pondered this I felt another sputnik preparing to return back to Earth. With an unmistakable thud and a shake it dawned on me that my duces were the ones responsible. Afraid to look I quickly hit the eject button on the commode. Feeling offended at such an abrupt departure the barbarians refused to depart. Which brings me to the question on why Japanese loos are so damn delicate and why the hell do store not stock plungers?! My faith is truly shaken at the dumpitoriums of Japan.
Now I normally wouldn't bring up dooking but the sheer epic-ness of the grandiose steaming brown express train out of my brick factory was an experience that I felt... nay, NEEDed to share.