Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Japanese Lions

The lions of Japan don’t rule over the savanna as they usually do where they normally live. The lions of Japan rule the street. They walk around, dressed in black, wearing shoes 5 sizes too big, and they hunt for prey. Like most of us single males, they hunt for women. Their biggest weapons are the cans and cans of spray net that they put in their hair, and their questionable fashion sense. I’m not a lion, I had hair that made me look like a lion at some point, but I have other weapons then cans of spray net. On the street, I’m a nobler animal… I would say I’m something like a drunken leopard. A panther wearing a v-neck. A really classy hyena.
Like many animals looking for easy prey, The Japanese lion walks around in a pack. Two or three lions walking around the nightlife district, using their radars to spot wounded, (really) short skirt wearing Japanese chicks. When he finds such a thing, the lion then separates from the pack and starts following the girl around with, (most of the time) little to no success.

Let’s not kid ourselves, the Japanese lion exists because of the success it has had sometimes. If some dumb girls want to date a really awkward looking dude, whose hair could maybe hurt her in intimate situations, it’s her problem. But it really makes you wonder: who the hell decided such a hairstyle was acceptable, and also, should we be afraid that people like this might appear on the streets of Europe and America someday???

Be afraid of the Japanese lion, be very afraid… Wouldn’t you want to punch one in the face today?

Thursday, October 1, 2009


version 1 AKA : The Conscience conversation

When I got home last summer, some people told me I was more mature. It felt quite good to be lauded as a person of great maturity, for the first time in my life. I felt like a respectable individual, you know, the type of guy you could lend your car to and not worry that I might send it to the bottom of a lake (If that type of guy had a driver’s license, which I don’t!!!). So what happened?? I guess that when I turned to the glorious age of 2_ last year, I might have just gone over the ‘maximum age to get mature’ point. I guess I had a conversation like this with my brain:

(Brain): ‘Alright big boy, you are now 2_ in physical years and 15 mentally, maybe it would be time to grow up and become mature eh? What do you say we start acting like grown men?’
(Me): ‘Fuck No dude!!!! 14 ‘til I die!!!! Woo Hoo! Where’s my beer? Yeah! You can’t spell Party without P-Y!!!
(Brain): ‘Listen up you little hoodlum, you’ve been making me insane with all your partying… You do realize that you have been a bit of a partyboy for almost half your life now? Do you know what the life expectancy is for people with your lifestyle???
(Me): ‘Life expectanWHAT?... Brain-dude, are you making up words again???
(Brain): ‘Life ex-pec-tan-cy… If you keep this up, you won’t make it passed 35. Race car drivers have a better chance to see a Montreal team win a Stanley Cup than you do… Is that what you want?
(Me, realizing the fatality of the Brain’s last statement): ‘Woah, I guess you’re right. Maybe I have been going a little overboard. Where should I start?
(Brain): ‘Well for starters, you could start wearing your pants like a normal person, everyone can see your ass!!
(Me, complying): ‘Alright DONE. I feel like a new man! Where is the closest museum so I can go look at paintings and pretend to see the true meaning of it, you know, like a grown-up, boring person?
(Brain): ‘Shut up and have one more beer

Version 2 AKA The actual story behind my new-found maturity

During my vacation in Montreal, some people told me I looked more mature. For the first time in my life, I felt some pride about being a mature guy. I felt like a respectable individual, you know, the type of guy you could lend your truck to and not worry that I might use it to go pick up a prostitute on Ontario street (If that type of guy had a driver’s license, which I don’t!!!). So what happened??
Well yeah, some people told me I ‘looked’ more mature…
I guess these people have never heard about JETLAG!

Woooo Hooooo!!!! 14 ‘til I die!!! You can’t spell PARTY without PY!

Later, I’m off to my weekly Thursday night all you can drink party!