Tokyo Round 2

I went to Tokyo last because we had a 3-day weekend. It was awesome. First I had Wendy’s and I’ve never gotten so excited to eat one of their classic cheeseburgers. I was also ecstatic too see that they have frosties over here which TASTE THE SAME, ahhh. I also ate a fake taco which had authentic insides, but the tortilla was made with rice flower and was the same as a mushu wrap. Fuh-dat-shi. I also had BK, and let me tell you, the fries taste waaay better back home.

On the first night we went out, we went to an “International Party,” which is synonymous with old guys creeping on Japanese women who are mostly gross, or in their late 30’s. The aussie managed to snag two away from this graying balding guy, and his wrinkly cohorts. The brit managed to snag some grandma’s and they showed us a night on the town. They took us to Roppongi Hills where the brit and I decided it was wrong to hang out with grandma’s and ugly girls, and proceeded to ditch the others. From there on, we, the dynamic duo, went from club to club until we got sick and went to a ramen shop for a late night snack. Then paid 50 bucks fro a cab back to the hotel at 4 in the morning.

Later that day, we went to Harajuku to see Gwen Stefani’s hoes and then arrived at a toy store called kiddyland. I thought they actually sold little kids, but I was gravely mistaken. Only toys. Then we went to Akihabara, which is the haven of otakus, and ogled at all the miniature statues of the Dark Knight. We also visited an 8-story sex shop with what I consider highly immoral stuffed underage anime girl dolls, and more bondage leather than the entire amount used in the wild west. I bought two of the dolls, because I figured they needed a friend when I wasn’t around. Then there are the 8-story video arcades. Sooo much awesomeness in one place. Anything you would imagine, even being considered a game, digitized and placed in a box.

Later that night, we made our way to Club Atom, and met up with a French what- rhymes- with-baquette, and another Brazilian dude named Marcelo. Frenchie was a douche, and I think marcelo was gay, mostly because they were “French Kissing,” HAHAHAHA… It was another repeat of Tokyo orientation, except we didn’t get back till 6:30 am. It was amazing. Drunk and sleep deprived we took the first train we could back to Iwaki.

Cultural Notes

1. Hotels charge fore late checkout here
2. Harajuku is NOT filled head to toe with oddly dressed girls
3. Japanese people don’t know what tacos are
4. Its hard to find Red Bull here too. What I’d give to get those sluts from la to bring their mini over here
5. Otakus- (oh-tah-ku-s) – Big dorks