June 25, 2008
Lou Fattorusso has sent me an email about an bizarre development at KFC in Japan. Thanks Lou!
So Im strolling along the streets of Tokyo when I duck into a KFC…I place my order and sit down…when I open the bag, I examine a mysterious piece of paper inside…I wonder…is this the underground vault where the keep the secret recipe? As it turned out it is the direction map for where the bones are located in my chicken part…the things I LOVE about this town
June 23, 2008
I’ve finally moved to the Big Smoke! I’m now living in the throbbing heart of Tokyo and can stumble through the bustling, neon-lit alleyways of the sprawling metropolis whenever I feel like it. I’ll soon have plenty of amazing new bars and exciting drinking escapades to write about. That is, once I can afford to leave the house (the extortionate rental deposit has left me poverty-stricken).
It shouldn’t be long before I can get some cash together (I might get round to buying a new computer, too, and actually start blogging more often).
Staying in isn’t a problem- the apartment is brand new and very plush. It’s full of electronic gizmos which I can’t figure out how to use. There’s even a video intercom so I can see who’s ringing my doorbell downstairs in the lobby (and ignore them if they’re religious fanatics, cuckolded husbands or TV license fee collectors.) Shortly after my arrival, the gas-man came to connect my gas, and appeared on the intercom monitor in my flat. I had yet to use this contraption, and didn’t know which of the buttons to press (they all had obscure Japanese kanji on them). I selected one at random and, instead of opening the door for the gas-man, an alarm bell went off. I must have pressed an emergency button because, 10 minutes later, a beefy security guard arrived, wearing a helmet and a bullet-proof vest. He began berating the terrified gas-man, who he’d caught fiddling with the gas-meter in front of my flat.
After about an hour of me being reprimanded, having lengthy negotiations with the security company over the phone in mangled Japanese, painstakingly filling out forms in kanji, the disgruntled security guy finally left me in peace.
I’m surprised my flat even has a panic button- it’s not exactly a dangerous neighbourhood. They could have at least made the button red! Now I’m scared to touch anything in case I set off an ejector seat or a hidden trap door. It’s like being in the movie, “Cube.”
June 10, 2008
Often the coolest Japanese bars and restaurants are in the most obscure locations. Such is the case with the groovily-named Virgin Sunset, a loosely Hawaiian-themed joint down an obscure side-street in Yamato City, Kanagawa. You can find it by looking out for the flaming torches outside.
It’s one of those uniquely Japanese places that mixes up various international elements and puts them through the old Japanese filter. Here you can sit among fish tanks and palm trees, and eat Italian pizza and Jamaican jerk chicken, whilst watching surfing videos and listening to 70s disco and funk hits being spun by a DJ in the corner, and drinking pina coladas served by waitresses in pretty Hawaiian dresses. A charmingly mental mish-mash of madness. Also, for some ungodly reason, the door-handles in the toilet are shaped like penises, but I try not to think too much about that.
I once stumbled into Virgin Sunset on Halloween night, and the additional Mexican Wrestlers and Wonder Woman costumes were enough to make my head spin.
If all this character wasn’t great enough, Virgin Sunset has a half price beer and pizzas every day from five to seven, including weekends. Try finding a deal like that in Tokyo!
After taking advantage of the happy hour, I tend to head to a cheap and cheerful games center a few doors up from the Virgin Sunset, called “The Big Bang”, which has darts, pool, batting cages and go-kart racing. An ideal place to continue the shenanigans (although the staff are reluctant to let you try the go-kart racing while totally shit-faced.)
Virgin Sunset Restaurant and Bar
June 10, 2008
I suspect this bathroom cleaning spray is supposed to be called “Sanitary”, not “Sanity” (unless they were trying to convey the idea that buying any other product would be madness.)