be my valentine: you can either play the game or run away

this is what i usually look like on february 14th

this is what i usually look like on february 14th

It’s the day before valentines day and I’m hyperventilating. i can just feel the bile rising. many people don’t want to participate in this archaic tradition. girls are given red roses, and some confess their love. it’s all just a ruse used to stroke our egos. i remember the looks on the faces of the girls that got red roses delivered to their classes on valentines day. superiority. that’s what they felt. because they knew that they were wanted.  and the rest of us would just sit there hoping that one rose would come our way. even while i was hiding behind a book i too wanted a rose. just like everyone else but wasn’t about to lose face in front of rose getting girls.

i wasn’t popular, i didn’t wear a short skirt. and in the looks department, i was average. even average girls would like to know that someone is thinking of her. but looking back on those high school days when i was trying to out grow puberty. i can’t say that i’ve ever really played the LOVE GAME. sorry lady gaga.

i’ve liked many boys and men over the years but i have to admit that i’m xx years old and i have yet to CONFESS my love to anyone. i thought that once you’ve hit twenty one you’d have fallen at least once once in love.

every other girl on valentines day

every other girl on valentines day

nope not me. i always have to be different. like salmon, i swim against the stream.

lets start at the very beginning.

first love: i was six when i first met david. he was fair, had green eyes and black hair. david wasn’t the tallest boy in class but he sure was the prettiest. I think from a very early age it was clear that i was superficial. he was like an angel walking on earth. most girls my age were very open about their feelings and vied for his attention. i chose to play in the sandbox. a few weeks before the school closed, the teacher told the class that david would be moving to a knew town. i was gutted. i couldn’t imagine coming to school and not being able to see him. he hugged every girl, saying goodbye to each of them.  but i was the only one to be kissed on the cheek. that was the first time i knew what it felt like to have my heart skip a beat.  even though i knew i wouldn’t see him again, i couldn’t admit my feelings or give him a proper goodbye.  i wouldn’t say that this is my biggest regret but i think it marked the beginning of my wimp years.

it was many years before i again dared to venture in the rough sea of love. this time i was 11. after my parents divorce. we relocated to a new town and i started going to a new school.  thats when i met sebastian. he had dark brown hair, intense brown almost black eyes, and vampiric canines. on valentines day, i discovered that he was the most popular boy in school. sebastian and his best friend Rob  would compete to see who would get the most love letters. for the entire day they would receive boxes upon boxes of love letters and cards from girls form different grades. rob was far more social than sebastian and friendlier. but it was sebastian’s silent beauty that made him irresistibly alluring. where rob was a flirt, sebastian was indifferent. no one knew who he liked but what i knew for sure is that he hated me.

what was an eleven year old to do when the boy she liked hated her guts and called her cactus butt (reference:lion king. it still doesn’t make sense to me) whenever the opportunity presented itself. there was only one thing left to do. make sure that he knew she hated him right back. when he said that he liked subzero from mortal combat, i’d snort and say subzero was boring. when he bought the latest bomber jacket. i snorted and told him that he looked stupid in it. he’d antagonised me when i played soccer with the boys during lunch, so i kicked the ball in his face. I’m not sure when our hate changed to mutual respect perhaps it was when i score that beautiful goal during a game against the seventh grade boys team or when i let him cheat off my test that time he forgot to study. by the end of primary school, i was closer to him than any other girl in our class. but even then i couldn’t confess. not when he shone so bright and i… well i was just me.

lets fast forward through high school… a time when i spent most of my time reading harry potter and fantasising about orlando bloom. there was only one boy worth mentioning. he wore a speedo during a swimming and that image will forever be burnt into my retina. when my friend tried to introduce him to me… i guess my fear of shaking hands with a speedo wearing god triggered my hypothalamus and sent me running!

not my proudest moment

not my proudest moment

i quickly learnt that in the LOVEGAME, i played to win. i couldn’t handle being around good-looking guys. they made my hypothalamus act up and sent me running for the hills. so i steered clear of anyone who made me react that way. it wasn’t the most mature choice but that was the only way i could survive. to run is to lose. and i planned to win. so i decided to look for guys that had ok-ish faces and seemed interesting enough to date.

the first was an older guy in one of my university classes. he wasn’t  good looking, and was too skinny for my taste. but it was clear by the end of our first year that he wouldn’t mind hooking up me. that relationship dragged on for two more years. both of us not fully committed but too insecure to leave. that was until i met my first boyfriend. he was ok looking. most importantly he was interested in me. and we had crazy sexual chemistry. but there was something missing. i didn’t know what it was but it was there. we broke up after a few months because i cheated on him and he was too embarrassed to introduce me him to his friends. these relationships were bound to end. yes, i wasn’t sitting at home in a towelling gown guzzling down a tub of ice cream. but i felt like at least i’d be able to feel something while watching a drama. instead of passing time in a boring relationship.

there was no passion.

some heavy petting does not count as passion.

love should burn like a fire.

those are famous words said by marianne. i know that marianne in sense and sensibility chased after willoughby and had her heart broken. but didn’t she get her happy ending? she got colonel brandon. (I’m for any ending where you can spend the rest of your life with alan rickman. he looks damn good in black). yes she was stupid for chasing after the wrong guy and making herself so sick that she almost died. but she had balls. falling in love is scary. you are baring your heart and you wont know if the other person will treat it carefully or just trample all over it. i know i don’t have the balls to bare my heart. thus leading to question: did i really win in dating ok guys? what is it to win?

i didn’t date anyone else after them. was it by choice? perhaps. and then i moved to japan. the land where men happily confessed to be hentais and only wanted to date cute girls. coming to japan i found out that its pretty easy to be left the fuck alone. guys are too scared of foreigners. i can only assume it because a) we aren’t as petite as japanese girls or b) they fear speaking english or c) their mating rituals are different from ours. maybe what they classify as wooing looks like the macarena to me. i was fine for a while. but i made one miscalculation. my bucket list…

i have no idea how ‘get a japanese boyfriend’ made it on my list beside ‘see miyajima shrine’, ‘go to a host club’, and ‘pretend to be a samurai in kyoto’. but it was there. after many failed attempts to get japanese guys’ attention. i went back to feigning ignorance. when a lovely man caught my eye.

well, hello!!

well, hello!!

he was funny, and would try to speak to me even though i struggled to speak japanese and his english was nonexistent. i liked how his cheeks would always turn rosy when he tried to speak english. and how he would gush over his niece and show me pictures of her. i liked looking at his broad back and fantastic ass. and that he’d always laugh when i greeted him by just saying ‘yo’ like a high school boy. i just wanted someone to perv on. someone to look forward to seeing but you can fall so easily without even being aware of it. before i knew it, i was dreaming of how he’d hold my hand. where we would go on our first date. and i wondered if he thought i was pretty.

it freaked me out a bit.

my hypothalamus was working in over drive again.

i needed to escape danger.

warning!

warning!

i wanted to run.

i really did but i wanted to get to know him more. i wanted to make him laugh. i wanted to see those cheeks flush every time i’d tease him. (that does sound a bit sadistic) i was over come with greed. a greed i had never known. i wanted it all. is this what it felt like to be IN LOVE? this idea of love almost made me laugh. it was so stupid. these feelings i had felt ridiculous. every time he said my name, my insides would freeze. the old me would say that i lost in this LOVEGAME. i didn’t know what to do with these feelings. i felt like ariel when she first realised that she no longer had a tail but two legs.

how do i use these?

how do i use these?

but before i learnt how to stand, the rug was pulled right out from under me. (sorry for the cheesy pun).

Sebastian, "Just look at her! On legs! On human legs!"

Sebastian, “Just look at her! On legs! On human legs!”

i forgot to ask the most important question before i dove head over heels.

and the answer is: yes.

yes, he has a girlfriend.

of course someone as wonderful as him has a gf. she knew him. he laughed at her jokes. I’m sure his cheeks flushed whenever he looked at her. and she had it all. the way hollywood describes being heartbroken, i thought it would feel more broken. maybe even it would make a weird cracking noise. thats what i thought. my heart didn’t feel broken. more hollow. like there was a gaping hole in my chest where the wind would blow reminding me that nothing was there.

one can’t really describe heartbreak. twilight tried to do it by showing bella sitting at a window as the seasons passed her by.

bella just looks constipated to me

bella just looks constipated to me

i wish heartache felt like that. if any imagery could describe what it feels like to be heartbroken, i would say it felt like being a wounded dog struggling to get up. blood gushing form your chest, as it dragged its battered leg trying to find some place safe to rest. falling out of love does feel like you’re about to die. but every morning you wake up and realise that you’re still alive. one day you wake up and realise that it doesn’t hurt as much. someday in the not so distant future you look across the table and think: why didn’t i notice you before? do i like you? you won’t know. but he presents possibility. it could lead to something wonderful or to a little more heartache. i don’t know how i feel just yet. the important thing is that i am here. a little more battered than before. maybe you will try to be brave and give him handmade chocolates. even though you don’t believe in valentines day.

S & N: Tipi pitching worthy Asian guys ft Ryan Gosling

meanwhile-love-life-desert-tumbleweed_large

It’s safe to assume that South and I are deprived women. There are no available men around us. I recently was introduced to a marginally good looking guy that was funny and charming. Girl, I pitched a tipi so hard. In that moment all I could think about were all the things I’d like to do to him. That was until I was introduced to his gf— the Japanese version of Barbie. And so I kept walking like Johnny Walker. Na mean.

It really sucks that there aren’t any guys worth perving on in our offices. Alas, we have to settle for pitching tipis on

this…

i recently discovered this hottie in 2am… who knew?

i recently discovered this hottie in 2am… who knew?

and this…

there is always time for bang to feed you chocolate… always

i’m hungry

feed-me

Who are we to complain? There are people out there that are equally as deprived as we are that do not have access to the internet. First world problems. eish

Have you seen Rolling stone’s hottest sex symbols list yet?

guess who made the list!!!!

guess who made the list!!!!

How does Rolling Stone even know about T.O.P.? Is it April fool’s day already? In my opinion, he’s the hottest man alive. But whenever they’ve compiled these hottest men alive lists, all the men tend to be American and very much Caucasian. I’m not trying to be controversial by insinuating that there is a certain degree of racial bias when compiling these lists. I’m just stating the facts. They rarely have Asian or black men on these lists.

not cool…not cool at all!!!

not cool…not cool at all!!!

So we’ve decided to compile our own list.

be warned: panties could possibly drop on their own accord, or uncontrollable tipi pitching may occur.

be warned: panties could possibly drop on their own accord, or uncontrollable tipi pitching may occur.

Ryan Gosling(actor/ a man that every woman alive would die to marry)

itadakimasu

itadakimasu

Why hasn’t he been announced as the hottest man alive? Have you not seen crazy stupid love? I’m so confused!!! And so is South? The world may not know the guys on our list but bloody hell!!!! Ryan is the hottest guy in North America. Come now, you need to get on it this year. There can only be two reasons that Ryan isn’t number one on your list. First, you’re jealous. Second, you have no interested in men. Both of these reasons would lead anyone to the conclusion that you are not qualified to make any hottest men alive list… ever!!!!

Ukwon(Block B dancer/ eye candy)

nom nom nom

…  …   ….nom nom nom

I don’t know… I don’t know… but I’m hot. You know what… you know what… you know what I mean. oh yes we do. Fffffaaaaaq!! He’s hot. I’m not sure how many times I’ve watched the nalina video. I’m sure I’m responsible for at least a million views of that vid on youtube. I love him. When Block B went through all that shit with their former management and there were rumours of their break up. I was heartbroken. I thought I would never see his face ever again. That’s sad. That was until a few months ago when they made an ACTUAL comeback with “very good”. Okaeri. I literally died when he took off his clown mask in the very good MV. Thank you for coming back Block B. We missed you.

Osamu Mukai(Japanese actor: Hungry!!!, Paradise Kiss and Beck)

ek is nou honger

ek is nou honger

The first Japanese man to make my vajayjay go BOOOM. I remember when I first arrived in Japan. The ladies in my office could not shut up about this guy. I was like who is he? What does he do? Can I see a picture? They showed me a picture and I was like. I’ve seen hotter. I’m not sure if there was something in the water or if he brain washed me while I was watching atashinichi no danshi, but I am hooked. He has the nicest lips, and his smile… A girl could lose all sense of control if she ever saw that in person. Please don’t start a music career. That would instantly kill my tipi. My only negative is that I want to call him oppa. Oniisan sounds too creepy. Oppa, saranghe!!!

2PM(strippers/idols/fallen angels)

                            they shouldn't wear anything            ever

they shouldn’t wear anything ever

So far I’ve only mentioned individuals but there is no way I can have a sexy list and not include 2PM. It’s like some people not making Ryan number one. You just don’t do that. Can you believe that South just discovered how hot these guys were like two weeks ago. While hunting for kpop goods in koreatown she was like… is it just me or is 2PM hot?” I was like. Are you serious? I pitch tipis for these guys all the time. Every single member in this group has a hot body. I loved south’s reaction after she saw the A.D.T.O.Y music video. She was like: they should stop singing and just be strippers. I’m sorry but we need to raise the roof and give JYP a pat on the back. That was the best decision anyone had ever made in the kpop industry. Singing strippers. Genius.

CNU(B1A4’s rapper/ bespectacled hot man)

and i die...

and i die…

Add some spectacles to a face of an angel and you have a Molotov cocktail. This guy is dynamite. So hot! Did you see the teaser clip for baby goodnight? Don’t! my eyes rolled back, and when I came too, I was on the floor with a huge knob on the back of my head. I wish that this face to wish me goodnight. every night!! I’ll just need to purchase a padded apartment.

(sorry i couldn’t find the eng sub)

Lee Joon(MBLAQ’s dancer/leg raiser)

can i lick the rain off your face?

“Oh Joon”. I feel like Oprah after she watched Australia. When she was totally crushing on Hugh Jackman, “oh Hugh”. We all knew that Oprah was pitching a major tipi for Hugh Jackman. I have to admit that I was pretty late to the Lee Joon party. I thought he had a nice face but that was it. Until I watched an MBLAQ interview on youtube. A fan wrote in to the show and asked him to do a dance move or something. And the next thing I know he’s lifting his leg in the air, with his hand holding his foot in the air.

(skip the interview… go to 03:15)

He was as flexible as a cat. I hate cats but that foot in the air did something to me. I started having feelings down south. Na mean. Talk about tipi-ing so hard that your nose bleeds.

Ki Kwang(B2ST’s visual/sex god)

and that's how i fell in lust

and that’s how i fell in lust

I have to be honest. I’m not a big fan of B2st. i don’t even get what their name means or why they’re having trouble spelling beast. who knows or cares. I only know like one song. who cares about the music when there is a someone as hot as Ki Kwang in the group. damn. Ki Kwang be fine. How can anyone be this hot? when I stalk him on tumblr all I want to do is hump his face. no his arm. no his leg. maybe I just want to hump every part of his body. Ki Kwang you lift up your shirt and I …

clean up on aisle three

clean up on aisle three

 

 

Zico(Block B Leader/ gangsta rapper)

ok ok ok

ok ok ok

the only English words you know might be ok ok ok but that’s fine with me. his rapping makes my panties drop. He’s like the bad boy in the Kpop universe. The blonde hair, the devil may care attitude, and those long… long legs. There was a moment when he…let’s talk about the dreadlocks phase. And instead we should focus on his panty dropping points. 1. he’s a dope rapper. And would wipe the floor with any rapper. 2. he’s got swag. 3. he majored in art at uni. And probably paints naked in his free time. That’s hot!

Bang(B.A.P’s leader/ rapper/ do gooder)

as the great bruno mars once said: bang, will you marry me?

as the great bruno mars once said: bang, will you marry me?

That deep voice. Those eyes. That smile. He is so manly, this is the kinda guy that I’ve been waiting for. If only I could call him oppa, but I’m older. Please call me noona, and I promise I’ll like it. not only is he hot but he’s an all round good guy. Nothing is more sexy than a guy that gets that there are people less fortunate than him, and he gets the awesomeness that was Nelson Mandela. I was watching a clip on youtube where the guys of B.A.P had to draw a pic of their ideal woman and he drew a pic of a chick with bigass wavy hair. Someone off screen told him to call out to her. He looked at the camera with his arms wide open and said, “come here”. I died. Ha-penis overload!!!!

Lee Minho(Korean actor: boys over flowers, the heirs and Faith)

lee min ho can i be your leading lady?

Someone needs to dub him the gentleman of the kdrama universe. You know you’re going to enjoy any kdrama with Minho in it. He’s got the charm and wit to pull off any character (except heirs…I don’t want to talk about it…). I’m not sure if he should be on this tipi pitching list. I think he’s hot but in a respectful way. when I look at his face I wouldn’t say that I’m like a dog in heat. He’s just the kind of guy that makes you feel sexy. You know he’ll treat you just right. And that’s hot! Say yes to pitching a tipi for a guy that treats you with respect.

Rain(actor/singer/dancer/shirt ripper)

can you just imagine all the things he'd do to you???

can you just imagine all the things he’d do to you???

I think that he’s the only Asian that most people know. Yes! Yes! Ninja assassin. That movie is like porn to me. I still don’t get why he wasn’t just shirtless from the beginning to the end. *shakes head* I wanted to exclude him from the list. Just to spite him. He’s was released from military duty just a few months ago and has yet to show us his bod. That’s rude! He had an amazing body before he did his service. So he must have jonged up. South is incessantly talking about how Koreans magically fill out after serving in the military. Let’s celebrate the fruits of your hard labour togezza, Rain.

T.O.P(Rapper/ actor/hottest man alive::: literally.)

I never thought i'd ever say this. but i'm super jealous of a wine glass

I never thought i’d ever say this. but i’m super jealous of a wine glass

I still dream of carrying his blue haired babies minus the babies. This man looks good in anything. Blue hair, striking red suit, as a villain, wait… he looks terrible dressed up as a girl. Please delete those videos from youtube. Sankyu! I remember when I first caught sight of him, at the bob concert. I was so overwhelmed (with hormones) that I just stood there stunned. He’s actually hotter in real life. How that is even possible… I don’t know. I was so sad that I was too broke to purchase tickets to a BigBang concert. he just released Doom Dada, and that is a sick track. and he looks so good in the video. Sjoe, he blows how to make himself look good. He is the manliest man in the Kpop universe. But I think that Bang might give him a run for his money, someday. Let’s wait and see.

you’re welcome

you’re welcome

Think Like a Lady, Act Like a Monkey

It’s been a long time since our last blog post, and we really have no excuses. Maybe our lives have not been exciting enough to write about?

Well recently I had the opportunity to visit a Japanese city for a business trip, and for me this is a big deal. I was pretty overwhelmed, as always in particular when it came to combinis (convenience stores). Yoh! They really stay open 24 hours! And you can pretty much get anything there, including disposable underwear and REAL melon-flavoured melon pan! People of the mainland, do not take your combinis for granted (that includes you, N).

Anyways, it was the weekend of Halloween and while my fellow foreigners went to a bash in the woods, I chose to go to a bar. I don’t do Halloween or woods. In SA, we don’t really go trick-or-treating and stuff (trust me…it won’t go down well) although you do get art students and the like dressing up as zombies and making like they’re bleeding for the night and drink a lot in the name of Halloween or Freddy Kruger. It just doesn’t appeal to me. Although usually, if push comes to shove I can find something in my cupboard I can pass off as a costume, which says a lot about my general dress sense.

So I ended up with Princess at a bar/club sort of thing with only Japanese and Koreans, who all seemed to be uni students. I don’t have much experience partying (or even socializing, for that matter) with young Japanese people, which is very sad, so I would have been extremely socially awkward if we hadn’t drank copious amounts of soju-beer-coke cocktail before arriving.

Anyways, I was pretty confident. We opened the door and were like, hello we come in peace. The people in there were a bit gobsmacked to see these two random foreign chicks.

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The girls were all dressed in similar Lolita-style costumes that made me, in my tipsy state, really disturbed. I remember just staring at them all sitting in a row. To me, they looked confused, dumb, and a bit creepy. Eventually I actually asked a guy, “why are they all dressed alike?” to which he responded, “Oh, there’s only one costume shop in town.” I guess I tried to empathise after that.

As luck would have it, a Korean guy who Princess met on the internet and shagged in Korea happened to be at the party! I’m not making this shit up. And I actually mentioned this multi-lingual Casanova in a previous post. His good-looking yet douchey friend joined us, who spoke great English. Of course they loved Princess, because apparently word got around that she has an open-vagina policy. Whoops! Was that too bitchy and inappropriate? I don’t care. I’m also on a lot of flu medicine as I type this, and bitchiness may be a side-effect.

Snape Approves

Anyways, after helping myself to the free tequila shots courtesy of these two dudes, I went outside to visit the combini and to sit outside the club and think about life.

Now since I was sitting alone on the steps in the dark, guys actually came up to chat, using the few bits of English they remembered from Junior High or whatever. Now I know it sounds dodgy – drunk foreign girl sitting alone outside a club. However, I’m pretty sure I didn’t look like a prostitute or anything. For one, I was eating an onigiri (rice ball) or something, and thinking about life, so I’m sure I looked pensive and intelligent with a love for Japanese combini snacks. Yes, I’m pretty sure…

Anyways, I don’t really remember what went on, but at some point a dude sat next to me. He looked really young and was extremely cute. He made some conversation and before I knew it, I grabbed his thigh, which was right next to mine.

Okay, before you judge me:

       His thigh was right there

       I was drunk

       He was friendly and didn’t seem to mind

       I’m extremely deprived

       Holding onto his thigh stabilized me a bit

Basically … I was latched onto his thigh like a monkey. Like a sad, deprived foreign monkey. He was my banana. And the banana was speaking but I really don’t remember what was going on. It was just really comforting to just sit there gripping this strangers’ thigh. Whatever game I once had was long gone – this is what I had resorted to.

Think like a lady, act like a monkey.

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This is probably the most appropriate gif for this post – ever.

After leaving him to visit the combini, I returned to the bar and he found me sitting in a chair. It seemed he remembered the magical thigh-gripping time we shared outside. He told me he was twelve years old. For a second I believed him, but turned out he was 21. Relief! Legal. Channeling my inner monkey yet again, I latched onto his arm, and he sat with me for the rest of the night, being amazed by the fact that I was foreign and maybe a bit animalistic.

Maybe I was being overly forward and reinforcing the stereotype that foreign girls are sluts or whatever. At that point I didn’t give a shit.

Tips for Think Like a Lady, Act Like a Monkey **

– Your grip should not be threatening or painful. Don’t attempt this if it’s Halloween and you’re dressed as that female version of Wolverine (forgot her name, sorry).

– Don’t drape yourself over him. Monkey grip ONLY!

– Monkey grip should not be accompanied by crazy eyes.

– Some banana conversation might break the ice if things are initially awkward

– Try not to grab…other things. Keep it classy. You’re a strong, sexy, classy monkey!

– Make sure you’re drunk confident!

**Results may vary

Do You Have Sexy Pics: My Experience with Online Dating

I really can identify with N’s alcoholic post. I’m now an alcoholic too, and find various excuses to drink. The excuses are pretty tangible, I think. I’ve had a bad day at work. I’m stressed. I’m bored. I’m lonely. It’s so hot – nice day for a cold beer. It’s so cold and miserable – I need a drink to warm me up. This wine goes well with my dinner. It’s cheaper to buy a 6-pack than just one can. My coworkers drink, so it’s fine if I do. This beer might expire (I don’t know where I got that from).

One thing I’ve realised is that I have a terrible drunk-texting problem. Thanks to smartphones, we are connected to the world non-stop. As you know, we use Kakpraat often (note: we are not paid to advertise Kakaotalk haha…), and I’m constantly messaging people. BUT! As soon as I have a bit of liquor in me, I have to tell people “very important” shit – usually along the lines of “I’m drinking hahaha.” Poor N has been on the receiving end of my drunken rants. And…so have many guys. Guys that I have met and also strangers.

This is because another benefit of having a smartphone is that there’s an app for everything, including dating! Or “flirting” as the write-up says. Whatever! I signed up for one of those flirting/dating/friend-making/stalking/perving apps and filled out my profile half-heartedly. I’m still paranoid. Luckily my location is so random and lost, that the app has actually miscalculated where I am. Safe! And the people who live in my town generally don’t have smartphones cos we’re stuck in the 70’s and so I won’t accidently message my co-workers…safe!

Anyways I browsed some profiles. I love doing that. The guys’ profiles are so drastically different to girls’. We girls have to be sexy all the time, because no one is going to message a chick with a pineapple as her profile picture. No. These girls are hamming it up. The self-taken pics (“selcas”) taken from above so we can see the cleavage! A pic of just cleavage! The duck-face pout! A shitload of makeup! The five photo filters! And because I’m in Asia, lots of purikura! I then realised I could search for guys only, and checked out the dudes. Ah yes! They look so cool. There are lots with guys next to their cars. Some angry ones…actually a lot of angry ones. Why would someone want to message an angry person? Were they going for a Bruce Willis kinda vibe? No, no. And because I’m in Asia, lots of purikura! Yes, guys here take purikura too…manly purikura.

photo(6)

This cracks me up every time.

Then the messaging. Most guys start with “Hi”. Nothing wrong with that, that’s how we greet people. Some message in Japanese/Korean. Shamefully enough, I find my Korean ability to actually be better than my Japanese, so I put in some effort nonetheless. But regardless of nationality, there are creepers. At first I was scared/shocked/angry. Now it’s just hilarious.

There are the old guys. These guys think you’ll drop the panties when they say so, and I don’t bother responding to them. They are usually married. I get it…they’re looking for sexy times. No thanks.

Those usual ones who don’t bullshit around and start off saying they’d like some online fun times. Maybe accompanied by a dead arousing penis shot. Wooo! Delete. Similar to these are the chaps who will engage in small talk and BAM! Out of the blue they’ll say something like, “can I see a sexy pic?” or “I want to sex with you”. Who needs actual conversation when you have gems such as these? Gush. These guys I find actually try to negotiate with you when you say you’re not interested. And depending on how much I’ve had to drink, I will try reason with them. Something like this:

Guy: I want to sex with you. Can we meet?

Me: No, sorry

Guy: Please? I’ll teach you Korean

Me: Hahaha! Thanks, but I have a textbook.

Guy: When can we meet

Me: Why are you wanting to [erm] sex with someone from the internet? Can’t you find someone?

Guy: I have never been with a South African.

Me: Oh, I’m sure it’s not that different. Go out and find someone.

Guy: can we meet this weekend?

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Now I see the irony of this. In one of my previous posts, I threw the idea around of asking a guy to sleep with me and seeing his reaction. The reason for that was because I thought there was going to be nuclear war! Okay, don‘t judge me! Unless these guys also think they’re going to die soon (which granted, they might) and now ok, I feel kind of bad for judging them.

There are also weirdos who don’t say anything wildly inappropriate…but who’re just boring. There was a guy who couldn’t think of anything to say besides “Hi” and “what u doing”.

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However, I’ve had some good convos with guys on the app, also depending where I am. I usually end up listening to some people’s problems and giving advice. I guess they need to get their shit out.

I have met one guy in person. It was my first time doing that. I agreed to meet him because he was ridiculously funny, easy to talk to, didn’t hit on me and enjoyed k-pop. I didn’t care if he was gay or not, I just enjoyed chatting to him. So I met him in Busan. I was shit scared. But decided hey, this isn’t a date. We’re just going to hang out…and we did. It was a great evening, despite our initial awkwardness we ate delicious dinner, drove around listening to Big Bang (most awesome k-pop group ever), walked on the beach and looked at the lights…yes, it sounds extremely datey, doesn’t it. There were times when I had to catch myself and remember we had just met. But I think we were just comfortable. We still talk, and it’s a month later. Mainly just sending each other stupid .gifs.

Also, I told Princess about these apps a while back, and since she’s uploaded a Filtered Cleavage Pout pic, she gets lots of hits. She has also met some of these guys because they “talk everyday” and “have a connection”. She is by far the worst judge of character ever. Not that these guys were criminals or anything. One had no social skills but really wanted a “halfu” baby. Another “seduced” her by speaking Korean and Spanish, it was all so very romantic…and then buggered off to South America the next day. Next guy was probably the douchiest guy I’ve ever met in Korea/Japan (I was present when they met for the first time). And the last one seemed pretty decent (I was there again too, sigh) but never messaged again after meeting, except to say he got a job at Samsung.

I have since deleted the main app and my profile cos I was finding the people a bit too creepy for my liking. I’d find myself looking at all these people thinking, we’re in the same boat. We’re bored. We might not have the best social skills. I use my lonely location (and lack of people my age) as an excuse…but these people are within metres of each other and yet need to initiate conversation over an app. I guess these apps allow us be whoever we want to be…which is great and all, but in real life we don’t have filters.

I really hate men sometimes …

If you don’t feel like reading some bitch’s rant or hate speech towards men. You should stop reading this post… right now.

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I must confess, I’m not too fond of the male population of late, but tonight was just the pits. So I love to meet some friends for dinner and drinks on a week night, to blow off steam. You na mean? Our conversations vary from work, travels, pop culture and dating.

I’m legally obligated not to be violent. Since your ass will be jailed if you hit or kick anyone, in Japan. But my friend made a comment that  made me almost backhand her. She said and I quote: “I can’t be picky with the guys I choose. I have to take what I can get.”

This just pissed me off. My friend is beautiful, funny and smart. Yes, she’s not a size zero. But fuck, I’m so tired of us (women) allowing society’s (society which is in fact: men) standards of beauty determine how we see ourselves. I want her to know that she is beautiful, and that she should value herself more, and go for the guy she wants. And not the first sleazebag that talks to her. I understand how she feels because I still struggle with this issue as well. Why don’t we as women value ourselves more?

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So this got me thinking…

Why do men get to set the bar of what is hot or not?

Shouldn’t we as women set that bar?

It is our bodies!!!!

Is a size zero really that sexy?

When I developed breasts. Men just felt it was ok to be creepy. I remember an older man that was an uncle of a close friend, just ogling at me.

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How could I ever forget those lust-filled eyes. His wife who was usually nice, began to act dismissive towards me. At that time I thought, so this is what its like to be an adult woman. You lose all sense of logic. Your husband is lusting after a fifteen year old child but instead of giving your husband a firm talking to, and protecting an innocent child, you choose to see that child as a threat. I knew that I didn’t want to grow up to be a woman like that, and I definitely didn’t want to marry a creep.

We need to know that we are worth more than that. I think it’s normal to feel attracted to someone of an appropriate age. And I plan to very much still check out Korean ass when I’m fifty and happily married. But you have to be respectful towards your significant other, and not drool all over yourself in front them. Decorum! You need to act appropriately.

Let’s go back in time. To the exact moment when I started hating myself. At thirteen, what did I know about the world? I was a blank page that thought life would be like the movies. One day, you see the boy of your dreams, magically one night you would confess your feelings, and he’d feel the same way too. You’d kiss and promise to be together forever. You’d graduated from university, and overnight you’d be the CEO of your own very successful company. I didn’t know what the company did, all I knew was that I was well off, and was getting married to the man of my dreams.

Puberty was seriously awkward. I had to accept that blood would be gushing from my vagina once a month. My hormones were all over the place, I would have a break out of zits on the day of the dance. I just started crying for no reason. And at my high school, the guys were real jerks.

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One day while we were writing an essay or doing a worksheet or something. I don’t remember. It was about where we would be in ten years. I remember asking the teacher how to spell ‘fiancé’. And then some boy, I don’t remember his name or his face. Anyway, the little fucker burst out laughing and said, “Like you’d ever have a fiancé!” that was definitely the aha moment for me. It wasn’t a good one. It was the moment that I thought, “Ahh, I’m not pretty. So why would anyone want to marry me?” As I’m typing this post I’m searching my brain for his name, but honestly it’s not coming to me. I hated that boy for five years. I seriously hated him. I didn’t know why I hated him. I just did. And thought that every other male in my high school thought I wasn’t pretty or skinny enough to date.

Ironically, in my final year of high school, we worked backstage on the school play together. Once the play ended. He hooked his arm around my neck, and said to me and the rest of the backstage crew, “Are you ready for the after party?” I was livid. why was this arsehole touching me and acting all friendly, when we were mortal enemies. Then I had another aha moment: he didn’t remember what he said to me all those years ago. Back then, he was a stupid thirteen year old boy that didn’t really understand the gravity of his words. And I was suffering for the last five years for no reason. Instead of suffering, I should’ve just told him then and there while he was laughing at me to fuck off. Or just came up with a witty remark that would’ve made the class laugh at his stupidity.

I wish my mother encouraged me more to confess to boys. Rejection is part of growing up, and maybe back then the guy that I liked, possibly liked me back but I was just too indifferent to realise. But I guess she was too caught up in her divorce to notice that I was seriously fucked up about my body and boys. And I wish my father would’ve told me I was cute. If he did, maybe I would’ve believed it. Since he was the most important man in my life. I’m past my adolescent years where my parents were responsible for my wellbeing, so now I have to take full responsibility.

I’m not sure if my relationship with men got any better in university. I made many male friends. And started dating guys. Some were nice, but a little boring. One guy I used to liked for a while was really wishy washy about dating me and in the end called me a whore. And then there was him: I was in my last year of university sitting in the backseat of my friend’s car, and the guy I liked at that time was sitting beside me. He was a cold guy by nature. But I thought I made a breakthrough. Because he was sitting next to me. And he didn’t look disgusted. So that was a step in the right direction. Suddenly, he turned to face me, and looked me dead in the eyes, and said: “I like flat-chested girls”.

I was gutted. You’re confused, I know. Let me explain, I’m a little or should I say alotta gifted in the breast department. Thus, he was saying indirectly that I was not his type. Back then, young north was naive, cried herself to sleep that night. Not knowing that she had just been wronged. Where have their (men) manners gone? If a girl likes you, and she has yet to confess her feelings. You have no right to reject her. Yes, it might be awkward when she’s being Bella from twilight, breathing heavily in your ear, or watching you from around the corner.

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But as a gentleman you endure. And when she finally gathers her courage, and confesses. As a gentleman, you put her down gently. And lie. Firstly, you thank her for her confession. And tell her that her feelings make you happy. But unfortunately, your heart belongs to another. Why do men need to make us cry? I get that rejection sucks, no matter what you say. But some guys are real douchebags about it.

Talking about douchebags. I think I’ve met the king of all douchebags. I really didn’t want to write about this. But… its time.

One morning while sitting on the curb in front of a konbini in Osaka. This was 8am, and I was eating my breakfast, waiting for my friend who needed to use the loo. A man walked by and looked at me strangely, but I was completely used to people staring at me by now.

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I am a foreigner living in Japan, you know. So I didn’t really pay too much attention to him. After ten minutes he returned. Walking with purpose towards me. He said, in Japanese of course, very enthusiastically that I had large breasts. At that point, I was ready to cut a bitch. This fucker thought it was ok to approach me and disrespect me.

He didn’t stop. I pretended that I didn’t understand Japanese. Then he said in Japanese, “oh, you don’t speak Japanese.” so he changed tactics, he gestured showing that I had large breast. I said no, and tried to shoo him away. Then he said: touch, touch. Suggesting that he’d like to touch my breasts. Shocked, I said no. This guy was persistent, he then said, “Touch me”. I said no. then “suck…suck”. I got the feeling that he learnt a few English words from porn.

“No!”

“Sex?”

“No. just go!”

And so he left.

I don’t know what the fuck was going through that bastard’s mind. Thinking that I’d lie on my back in a cheap hotel with an ass like him. Do men no longer respect women? Or did they just never respect us at all. We are only their whores, baby makers, and are meant to wait for them as they search the streets for their next lay? I was ready to lay my best fighting technique I picked up from street fighter, shoryuken, on him.

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How dare he make me feel so cheap? How dare he not respect me? I was pissed that after believing that I’m so strong, I was so weak in that moment. When I told my friend about it, she said I should’ve given him a taai klap (a slap in the face). I was just shocked that he had the audacity to do what he did out in the open, with so many people watching. Even if I did punch or kick him, I’d probably be convicted for violence, even though it was in self defence. I don’t think I’d ever felt as far from home as I did that day. And yet, I’m not sure if I would’ve reacted any differently back home.

After the ordeal I told one of my Japanese friends, and she confessed that a similar incident happened to her. How many more women are there that have shared our experiences or have had worse done to them? Why was it ok, for men to make you feel dirty and worthless? Women! We need to empower ourselves. We should learn self defence.

And the laws need to be changed. We need to take harassment more seriously. Our governments should punish these individuals that think its ok to harass unwilling participants. And I believe that rapists and child molesters should serve at least twenty years in prison.

Do you understand why I occasionally hate men? I think they’re lovely to look at, but they just know how to piss me off, especially when they suggest women are the weaker sex. We are strong too you know. So what if I’m scared of spiders. There is nothing wrong with preferring not to be within a five meter radius of one. So yes, I would like my father to kill them for me. And now that I live on my own, I have to kill spiders that get in the way of my happiness. I can do it for myself. But do I want to kill spiders? No, I don’t. Would I like someone else to do it for me? Yes, I do. I don’t care if you’re a man, woman or alien. I just hate spiders, and wished they didn’t exist. Does that make me a weak woman, no its makes me human.

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Back to my friend. I hate that she’s beating herself about guys not liking her back but maybe he doesn’t like peas! After crying about some boy my sister gave me some good advice. I didn’t understand it at the time but now being older and a little wiser. It makes more sense. I know that this is a very hard concept to  understand. But just think about it logically. What food don’t you like? Well, I don’t like peas, I can’t stand that shit. And I’m quite relieved that you won’t find that shit in Japanese dishes.

Let’s say that people are food. Maybe to him you are peas. And that has nothing to do with you. He just doesn’t like peas. So whenever the guy I like rejects me, I cry myself to sleep for a few nights, and then I just tell myself that he just doesn’t like peas. And that’s ok. I’m going to wait for someone that likes peas. I don’t want one that’s dreaming of strawberries, when I’m just mushy peas. But if I were a food, I wouldn’t be peas. They taste disgusting. I wouldn’t mind being pumpkin. *drool*. Roasted chicken, and potatoes, with a side of rice, and a dollop of pumpkin. Yum! I miss Sunday lunch.

If I could give advice to young north, I’d say: don’t wear short skirts. If people around you can easily see your knickers. It is too short! What is wrong with wearing a skirt/ dress that is five centimetres above your knee. If you like that short length, wear leggings. They’re both appropriate and fashionable. Why do you need to demean yourself by wearing ridiculously short skirts? For who? Boys? Love yourself more. Laugh more. Be silly. And I’d tell her to be brave. If you like someone, become his friend first. First check if he’s a nice guy. Then, Confess. If you’re rejected, at least you had the balls, unlike most adults, to go for what you want.

Right now, I don’t hate men. I just don’t trust a large faction of them. What I realised is that stupid boys grow up into stupid men. Your happiness should not be wavered by their words. You need to love yourself first. Every morning, stand in front of your mirror, and look at that face looking back at you and truly believe that she (YOU) is beautiful.

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S&N in Seoul: We liked it

South: We’re back, babydolls. Back from our Seoul adventure. We didn’t die, and we’re back at work! Yay…! Actually, we didn’t just get back now, cos that would mean we had a rather long holiday. We’ve just been a bit delayed.

So since North and I happened to hang out together in Seoul, we decided to do a joint post on our experience. Kind of like one of those story continuing games.

So we decided to hang up our Homosexuality Cloak in favour of celebrating the “hottie motherland” as North calls it. I’ve only been there once before, but Seoul was still as crazy, busy, and pungent as I remembered.

North: Yay! Finally North and South could meet in the hottie motherland! I had a flashback of being in Seoul and my eyes just jizzed… It was so strange to give up the cloak after being homosexual for a whole month. But that was the pact we made: be gay until Seoul and then decide what we will do next. Even though I was no longer gay, I found myself being very homosexual. Here was my chance to break all the rules. It just felt so wrong to do something so right. And who wouldn’t appreciate some fine Korean ass. On the first day together, South took me to a Korean chicken restaurant (warning: there’ll be a lot of eating mentioned in this piece), where we ate chicken and got very drunk while watching Korean asses from the terrace.

S:  Ah yes! N was a chicken-soju virgin. That was rectified rather quickly. I couldn’t let Korea pass by without my chingu having the chickenofthegods.

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Maybe I hyped it up too much. If you haven’t experienced Korean chicken (yangnyeom chicken) before, accompanied by some soju (rice alcohol), then you haven’t lived. I actually quite enjoyed watching N enjoying the chicken. I love taking people out for chicken. Is that creepy?

N: Definitely creepy. South was like, no, you eat. But that little perv probably liked watching me eat. Is it weird that I wasn’t creeped out at all? Maybe I like being watched. Does that make me a creepy pervert too? But that chicken was damn good. I always eat ze chicken. South was all like, “we need to pregame”. I didn’t know what the hell S was going on about. At that point, I was pretty much buzzed from the soju, and was drunkenly convinced by S to get my ears pierced. I’m not sure what came first: eating a waffle or the piercing.

S: The piercing came first, yes. Actually, N didn’t need that much convincing. I believe some people need that little push. She went past the piercing place faffing and going, “hoo hoo I want to get my ears pierced but…” and I just said, “Well, do it!” There you go. The piercing girl was pretty voes. In South African slang or whatever we speak, that means she was pretty ballsy and took no bullshit, despite her being half our size. She instructed me to sit next to North for support, and I did in fear of her accidently-on-purpose prodding me with the huge needle she was brandishing.

Is it bad I don’t remember what really happened after that and the waffle? Oh, maybe we went to Ho Bar(s)! Contrary to what you might think, the Ho Bar chain isn’t exactly where you go get dem ho’s or something. Although Korea’s got Ho’s in different area codes. No seriously, there are so many Ho Bars. And we might have gone to all of them in one area.

N:  Yes, I remember the chick that pierced my ears. She was really bossy: “You! Sit there!” all forceful. If I were an actual homosexual, I think I would’ve liked that. I think I did like that, along with S watching me eat. I think I was really drunk and horny, and if I had a few tequila shots I would have been a real Ho Bar ho. S and I literally jumped from one Ho Bar to the next, and they all played the same kak electronic techno music. How the fuck do you dance to that kak? But we did eventually settle at a nice Ho Bar… wait…

S: Ooh. The first reason we settled at this Ho bar was because they were playing some hip hop. We felt like Goldilocks after testing the three bear’s beds. The second reason was we were quite happy drunk by this time and maybe we didn’t feel like aimlessly wandering around much. And the third, due to my drunkenness was that I fell in love with our waiter.

N: Is it just me or are Koreans really touchy-feely or have I been in Japan for too long? I’m also all about people keeping their distance. But that waiter was all over S – “Can I take your order?” one hand was on her shoulder, and the other was on her hand. I’m sorry, that’s a sign in the Western dating world. And that means that you want me. Kekeke! but I figure it’s all part of service in Korea, where these guys are part waiter, part host. And what a nice host he was. We didn’t order from anyone else except him all night. And S drooled as she watched him wash dishes.

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Oh, lordy lord…

S: The drool on the table didn’t only belong to me, N. That sounds gross. Maybe Ho Bar is short for Host Bar. But yes, him washing dishes was way sexy. He was very thorough, as we could see from our prime vantage point. Host or not, I loved his touchiness, the fact that he had to come super close to talk because of the loud music, the way he touched my hand and said, “wait…” and how he’d stand casually with his hand resting on my chair. This all sounds incredibly cheesy, but let him be hosty…I didn’t care. I was drunk and in my head he was super into me and had happy pants thoughts every time we ordered from him. Let a girl dream. I remember drunkenly stumbling home saying to North, “tomorrow I’m going BACK and telling him I LOVE him!” North was encouraging, the way drunk friends are. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

N: It’s true. I too drooled on the table. I never thought I’d say it but I wanted to take him home so I could watch him wash my dishes. And I’d ask him to wash them slowly. Being the good chingu that I am, I stopped looking at what belonged to S. And ate some chips instead.

While lunching at a South African restaurant, I found my Park Chop. I’m twirling my hair and biting my lip as I type this. He was beautiful, a vision, the main chef of the establishment. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he mashed those potatoes.

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When he asked us how the food was, I almost asked if I could take him home with me. Sigh. I feel like Kristen Stewart doing that creepy loud breathing, but I just can’t stop. A young SK guy that spoke English with an SA accent but who was born and raised in Seoul. And he had the cutest smile. Gush. Have we reached that age? You know… the settling down phase. We genuinely found these domestic guys… sexy. Yes, we hate washing dishes and love lamb chops very much. So they would be an asset in our lives. But it’s too early…. I’m still in my party years.

S: Remember that post about chocolate cake? Lamb chops are the new chocolate cake. I want to make a t-shirt. Sorry vegetarians, but yes, we were the hungry girls drooling over delicious, juicy, perfectly braaied (barbequed, to non Saffas) flavourful lamb chops. We might be guilty of objectifying poor unassuming guys, but really, we mean no harm. N took extra long paying at the till because her Lamb Chop came over to chat. She was spazzing out. Leaving was hard…we do miss good Saffa chow. And that night we decided to…guess what? You got it. Eat. Drink. And go clubbing.

N:  Yo, South, I’m really happy for you. I’m going to let you finish….but how the eff did we skip an entire day. Yes, I know that that chop making machine had an amazing smile that just reeled you in, but we didn’t talk about the best Korean BBQ we’ve ever had. That place was the bomb. We spent the night with our friends; one got so wasted on soju and posed for the best photobomb of all time. I still laugh at that pic whenever I scroll through my camera roll. After that we went to Ho Bar again. I know…but that place works for us. So after standing in the queue for twenty minutes one of the waiters walks up to our very white friend and says, “sorry, Koreans only”. My friend was livid. Being Saffas, South and I were like, whatever….but fuck. That just cock-blocked South. That was the “Just-wait” bar. There was a dishwasher that needed to be confessed to.

S: I didn’t mention this earlier cos it was a sore subject. There wasn’t just a mere wall separating me from my dishwasher…it was race. And a whole line of people ahead of us. Anyway, my heart will go on and on…you know? I crumpled up my love confessional speech I’d prepared (joking…) and we trudged off to some other bars, got more drunk…and ended up at some clubs. Our poor friends couldn’t make it beyond the first club and had an adventurous walk back to our hostel, but N and I chose to club hop.

Here are some facts about dancing/clubbing in Korea:

  • Koreans have a set dance. They move with the times and everyone dances in a similar fashion. Right now it seems to be a combo of the Harlem Shake and shuffle and maybe some air-humping.

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  • You WILL hear Gangnam Style/Gentleman at least twice. Just go with it.
  • Creepy people exist everywhere and you might find yourself recognizing the same weirdos standing near you as you move around the club. Usually people who look like you and feel you have a connection.
  • Dancing with a group of strangers is perfectly ok, especially if you’re a foreigner. It’s like socializing with no speaking except yelling parts of the song’s chorus at each other.
  • Club and bar bathrooms in Korea are absolutely gross. You have been warned.

N: All bathrooms in Korea are gross, but the bar/club bathrooms are the pits. And that smell remains in your nose for weeks. Never leave your friends to order drinks and head to the loo. because when you get back, there will be a bottle of Jagermeister on the table. I have no idea what South and our friends were thinking. I can’t believe that I didn’t barf after that bottle. As I said before, we’ve all leveled up to super saiyans.

I happen to like Korean dancing. They looked all crazed. It reminds me a bit of Fatboy Slim’s video of “Push the Tempo”. Their dancing is all jerky. Kkkkk. So there was a lot of dancing, and then we had to head back to the hotel because our feet were wrecked. I limped all the way back.

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We probably looked like this.

Oooooooohhhh. And South showed me amazing don’t-get-a-hangover-the-next-day technique. It was this tiny bottle of unicorn elixir. The next day I felt like I hadn’t drank at all the previous night. Miracles do exist in tiny bottles.

S: And in tiny glasses too…shot glasses. Shot glasses you pour soju into. You see how all of this is good? The remainder of our trip was basically made up of more eating/drinking, and last minute shopping in too-bright sunlight the next day before heading our separate ways.

All in all, it was good to meet N again, share some jokes, get weird, stuff faces, and just let things go for a few days. Let’s just say when I came back, I had Holiday Brain for a while after that. I was still bopping along to bad house music in my head, still a bit hungover and could still smell those amazing lamb chops (although I still reckon Busan is better).

And that’s where I conclude my account of this delightful experience!

N: Seoul is really the wind beneath my wings. Not really, but I love perving on your men, Seoul. They are well-dressed, don’t look girly, and they’ve got…you know, swagger.

I really will miss the city life, the coffee shops, those corn dogs that were made of fries, the vendors selling toppoki. And I’ll especially miss being in the same city as B.A.P. Yes, they were in Japan just the other day but with my luck the tickets were sold out within seconds. It you are listening, B.A.P, we’d like to get tickets to see you live! It doesn’t have to be in Japan, anywhere in the world will work for me. Doraemon, can I borrow your dokodemo door, so I can go back to Seoul whenever I feel lonely?

The perks of being an alcoholic

Gayly update: the road of the gay is a hard one to walk.

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I went to a goukon (group date with equal numbers of both sexes) the other day. Many Japanese people meet their future significant others at goukons. Not that I was looking for my significant other. It was on my ‘to do list’. So when I was asked. I just had to do it. I have to confess that this event wasn’t very homosexual. But in my defence, my friend needed to fill seats, and I’m a good seat filler.

After one too many tequilas, I couldn’t stop laughing. So one dashing young man asked why I am so genki (cheerful / energetic). And I said ‘I don’t know, because of happiness.’ But my very Japanese, and very drunk friend thought she heard, ‘because of a penis.’ Luckily, their English was limited to hello and how are you? But my friend was friendly enough to translate it for them. Thus I became the pervert that likes peni.

If there was ever a point when I should’ve stopped drinking. I think that was it. Tequila hangovers are the worse. Never again! That’s what I said but I found myself doing body shots from some random guy’s belly button the following Saturday again. I’d never admit this to my mom but I think that I’ve become an alcoholic. Since coming to Japan, I find that I drink more. Thus my tolerance level has gone up over the last few years. I’ve powered up so much that I’m practically Super Saiyan.

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When I first arrived in Japan one of my colleagues asked me if I was an avid drinker. At that time, I wouldn’t say that I liked or disliked it, and that’s what I told him. He said something that I’ll never forget, “there is nothing to do in this place. By the time you leave Japan, you will be an alcoholic.” I laughed thinking it would never happen to me. Present day: my fridge is stocked with beer, chuhais and wine. Just in case, I feel like one or the other. And when I’m running low, I can make a quick konbini run. In Japan, alcohol is readily available everywhere and at all hours. I love Japan, I really do.

Going home for Christmas was a real hoot!! I was sober for four days. A new record for me. On the fifth day, I was climbing the walls. My body didn’t understand what was going on… Where was its usual dose of alcohol? A shot or a beer would do. After a few drinks, I realized that I started to enjoy the company of my family more. See, alcohol brings families togezza.

There is so much rightness with being an alcoholic in Japan. 1. You’ll never be bored 2. You’ll sleep really well at night. On most nights anyway. 3. When things go badly at work, knowing that there is a cold beer waiting in your fridge really helps you get through the day. Your views on most issues will always clash, as a westerner you want to take a direct approach to solve problems whereas the Japanese way is through hierarchical discussions and documentation. Which is quite frustrating when the answer is simple: just do it my way?

4. Enkais, office drinking parties. Pouring drinks for your colleagues and bosses. Paying x amount for an all you can drink. Westerners can only dream of this. At these parties my colleagues get ugly drunk, they transform into creatures I’d never seen before. What happened to sweet natured Tanaka san, or my stoic buchou? Sigh. The shit that goes down at an enkai should stay at the enkai. My colleagues are always so surprised that I’m exactly the same person at work and at enkais. They always tell me that I’m a strong drinker. Bitches, I ain’t strong. I just refuse to show my true colours so ya’ll be talking about how crazy the foreigner was acting at the enkai on Monday. Nah ah… not on my watch.

5. Nomihoudais, drink as much as you like for a set amount for two hours. Yes, I be throwing those drinks back like they be lemonade. Booya!! This is why nomihoudais wouldn’t work because we can’t drink at an appropriate pace. Most restaurants offer all you can’t drink for two hours for a set price, and this is the time that I let loose. And go to the dark side— where I’m a sex kitten. Kkkkkk

what i think i look like when i’m drunk dancing:

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Reality:

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Do you really need a reason to drink? Back home we find excuses to party. So I find reasons to drink. I learnt a new Japanese word. Party time! I didn’t fuck up at work today.  Let’s party! The sun is shining. Yay! It’s my birthday!!! I might have moved countries but my reasons are still the same except now when I come home to an empty apartment it is enough of a reason to start drinking. Because I’m a grown up, bitch!!

Fun fact: a bad bottle of wine will not make your pasta taste better. Your pasta will just end up tasting like bad wine.

There are perks to becoming an alcoholic. You become more social, you become an amazing singer, and it makes you feel uber sexy. What’s wrong with drinking alcohol? I find the answers to most of life’s questions at the bottom of a bottle of wine. Although, alcoholism really gets in the way of gayism. When I’m intoxicated all I wanna do is have some sexism. I really should cut down on the drinking but then again, if I did, South and I would have nothing to laugh about.

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