Monday aug 5
Karaoke, transvestites
This morning Nakamura-san surprises me by giving me not
one but two stuffed hello kitty dolls that look like they've been sitting
on her shelf since the mid seventies. I'm so happy. I wonder what can I give
her? I brought a butt load of gifts for my pals, but I only have one gift
left. . . a tube of root-beer flavored lipstick. Sure, why not!!
I hope she has a chance to use it. . .
I go to karaoke with my great pen-pal and I find. . . KARAOKE SLAYER!! And not just KARAOKE SLAYER but fucking KARAOKE ANGEL OF FUCKING DEATH!!!! I can't stop myself. I was coming down with a cold before I even sang, and now my throat is destroyed along with my body. It was worth it.
headbanging. . . and singing, "EEEEEEEEEEIIIEEEEEEEEEIEEEEEEEEEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhh!!!"
The best part of angel of death is they have an additional track of what sounds like xylophone playing the singing parts, so you know when to sing. Normally the karaoke people just copy the sung melody but in this case, they had to make up a melody from scratch. So that's pretty hilarious too.
Now it's 9:30, and I'm ready to drop. But I still have to meet with Izumi, Saiya's friend. I have no idea what we're going to do, but we wander around kabuki-cho and bump into this seven foot tall japanese-brazillian transvestite named Emeron so I say, well, let's go to the transvestite bar. What happens is this: for $45 per person you get to talk for 90 minutes with some okama hostesses. Plus, oh, another $20 in drinks. When we get there, Michael recognizes me and puts my fucking BUSUCHAN cd on the bar's sound system.
Let me say that again: my fucking CD playing
in some sleazy transvestite hostess bar.
I'm like, 'ok, I can die happy now.' How fucking absurd is that??
Izumi is a much more conscientious translator than Saiya or Yuko. So I'm able to follow the conversation pretty well.
Emeron is joined by a series of hostesses, including Shinobu, Misuki and the burly K-chan.
The hostesses are dressed really slutty but their conversation is surprisingly modest. I guess because izumi and me aren't drunk like everyone else.. . .so we don't really talk about anything sleazy.
The other weird thing is that maybe half the clients in the bar are normal-looking straight women. What the hell?? Why do average-Jane chicks spend this amount of money to chat with transvestites??
Shinobu points out that the fly to my tiny blue shorts is down. Actually it's broken altogether. What a weird place to have my fly break. . .
I explain the concept of 'do-me queen' to them. They say in Japanese it's reitou maguro ("frozen tuna")
As we leave the place, I tell Izumi that all Japanese women are going to look like TVs to me now. . .
Tuesday aug 6
Assfort show
ASSFORT SHOW:
It takes place at the new Loft, one of Shinjuku's most famous punk spots. Apparently someone died at the OLD loft because of excessive slamdancing. Then they got Yamatsuka Eye from the Boredoms to physically demolish the old building as a 'performance.' Now the new loft is super-hard-assed about anything going out of control at shows. In fact, they won't even let me bring in donuts. Because it's outside food. I'm like, 'what, I'm going to get kicked out of a punk show for eating fucking donuts?? Is there no limit to Japanese petty greed??' But luckily the guys from Assfort recognize us and the management agrees to let me stay if I keep my un-punk donuts hidden.
We chat with yoshio the singer of Assfort.
BARE BONES opens up the show. They play good mid-tempo, PANTERA-kind of music. Which is made much better by the fact that the guitarist looks like he should be playing for the Stray Cats. How random is that??
Then SOME LAME BAND plays. the best part is, not only does the singer have a mullet, but the guy videotaping the band also has a mullet. so that's pretty metaphysical.
(THAT'S the cameraman on the extreme right...)
actually, lots of punk rock guys here have mullets for some reason.
punk...?
...or not?
Then ASSFORT. I'm always shocked by how different all their songs are from one another. One song is straight thrash, another is a thrashing waltz, still another is a series of thuds, or a shuffling cakewalk. I sneak bites of my illegal donuts. Yeah, fuk da man!
. . . .
uh, plus this girl was wearing this shirt.
. . . and making that face.
shortly after taking this picture, Yuko called these girls all hicks and rednecks in japanese.
Wednesday aug 7
All day in bed
Thursday aug 8
Massive retardation
My nose bleeds the entire plane ride back.
POSTSCRIPT:
The running theme of the trip is this: I'm looking for specifically Japanese things, things that happen only in Japan, but most Japanese I talk to are TOTALLY BEWILDERED or DOWNRIGHT OFFENDED that I want to see those things.
I can see their point, though. It's as if some Japanese guy was coming to America... "Are you going to see the Statue of Liberty?" "No." "Mount Rushmore?" "No." "the White House? The Rocky Mountains? The Rockerfeller Museum?" "Hell naw foolio, i'm going to Florida and see me some snake-handlers, then I'm going to Alabama and watch a KKK cross-burning, then it's off to L.A. and watch some drive-by shootings, and then I'm going straight back to Japan. See ya, foolio!"
Actually, that would be kind of cool, now that I think about it. Maybe that'll be my next trip.
Thanks for reading. ..
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