Tokyo Damage Report

adventureza in tdrdinking


do you ever wake up in the afternoon after an ‘exciting evening’ and then playing Drunk Detective? Drunk Detectives try to reconstruct what the hell happened the previous night by looking for souviniers such as vomit remnants or missing wallets, etc. As for me, I have souviniers on both arms today. one has a few blisters, and the other a mystery scar that looks like a red fish-hook. the blisters i have some memory of making but the red fish-hook is totally not mine. clearly it belongs to someone else. if you are missing such a scar, email me, please.




See, if you have an ARGUMENT with a motherfucka, you pretty much have to fight. . Because AN ARGUMENT by definition means that you actually disagree about fundamental shit, and that takes like hours to resolve, don’t it??

whereas a MISUNDERSTANDING means you basically agree except you didn’t communicate your agreement to the other person. Therefore, a misunderstanding only takes like 1 minute to clear up.

1 minute vs. 2 hours, am i right??

HERE IS ADVICE FOR YOU, DOOD: if you are out drinking with your pal and you have a misunderstanding, you have a responsibliity to STOP TALKING TO FOOLS YOU MET LIKE 5 MINUTES AGO even if you drunkenly think they are your new besht friendsh, and you have a responsibility to go off with your REAL FRIEND for ONE MINUTE, and sort out the misunderstanding, so that you guys can continue to be friends, and the mere misunderstanding does not turn into a WHOLE BIG THING, is what I am saying, already.

Not to say you have to totally ABANDON your new “besht friendsh”; of course not, motherfucka. Nobody is making you CHOOSE ? that is a fuckin’ FALSE DYCHOTOMY dogg!! All you gotta do is just you have to tell your new besht friendsh, “hang on for like 1 minute!” which is honestly not a big fucking price to pay for staying friends with your REAL friends, for Chrissakes, am I right???


That’s what I’M saying, yo!!!

What the fuck!!!


What is up with telling me that i don’t seem "even a little bit" drunk at 4 am, and then at 6 am, the MOMENT I BEGIN TO DISAGREE WITH YOU, telling me that i am "too drunk??" especially if this is the only time this week i am drinking, and you are drinking like every fucking night??? plus, the only reason i drank that much is, at midnight i had not drunk anything, and i was real quiet, and then you were getting on my case because i was too uptight and not in the spirit of things. so FINE, mothefucka, i drank, to be more like YOU, so how the fuck are you going to turn around and chastise me for being too drunk???

I mean, really!




Look, clown, I know that guys were having a fistfight in your bar. But does that really mean you have to shut the whole bar down? and start yelling at the people WHO WERE NOT FIGHTING to "get out! get out! over! closed!" ??? yo, who is the fuckup here, us or therm? Besides, clown, those guys were not even really fighting!! they were both a) so drunk and b) such utter pussies, that no one even drew blood, for crying out loud. They were a couple of junior college, Aerosmith-album-collecting motherfuckers who could not punch out a fucking baby harp seal, let alone each other. Jesus, that was the most pathetic fight ever. And still you pitch a fit??


you’re all SHOCKED, SHOCKED!!! like that motherfuckng cop in CASSABLANKA that discovered illegal gambling in the casino. DUDE, YOU SELL ALCOHOL FOR A LIVING. ALCOHOL MAKES MOTHERFUCKERS DO DUMB SHIT. YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. QED, BITCH!! Why do ALL bartenders and liquor store owners get all contemptuous of drunks, when they are the ones profitting off of it to begin with??? FUCK YOU. every date-rape, every wife-beating, every drunk-driving-death, is FIFTY PERCENT ON YOU, ASSHOLE, so don’t get all mock-scandalized when it happens.


Jesus. Furthermore, after we all got kicked out, i went up to one of the fighting guys, and asked him in all sincerety "so, who are you fighting with?" because barfights here are pretty rare. and his response was "you! i fight YOU!!". and here is the punchline: his attack was A KICK IN MY SHIN.

a kick in my shin??


are you fucking shitting me??


dude, have you never seen TRAINSPOTTING???? do you have no fucking clue how a bar-fight is supposed to go down?? were you too busy e-shopping for the proper hair conditioner, and doing wood-shop homework at your fucking junior college??? dude, what the fuck???? that was so amusing.


it would have stayed amusing except for the 40 year old 5 foot tall businessman that made it his business to be like the Insta-Security-Guard and sort of spread his arms back and hold back me and my friends, WHO HAD DONE NOTHING, and keep us ‘safe’ from the shin-kicking hooligan. Dude, who is more pathetic?? the wanna-be Begbie who can’t throw a single punch, or the wanna-be cop who starts shoving motherfuckers back, causing chaos in the name of law and order??? i was vastly amused by this, to the point where i tried to walk down the street to find the OTHER wanna-be fighter and ask him HIS opinion, when i realized that my friend had left without me, without even taking 5 seconds to wait for me. hence ADVENTURES IN DRINKING #3.

anyway, good times; good times.

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