Day 5 Observations - Tokyo

- So, there are two kinds of toilets in Japan. Super-fantastic toilets with a damn remote control and heated seats, and holes in the ground where you have to bring a newspaper and, no, not just for reading (although these have automatic flushing, too, for some reason). Which kind you get depends entirely on the situation -- your chance of getting a squat toilet is directly correlated with the desperation with which you need to use a toilet. Good times!

- Alan would like to add that the "toilet shower" function on the super-deluxe toilets is truly one of the most awkward experiences of his life. You know, you can never really find the "STOP" button when you really need it.

- The danishes here are FANTASTIC. Really, it's like a cross between a crossiant and a normal american danish. So perfect ... why is it that we can't have kick-ass danishes like this? You win again, Japan!

- Came back to Shibuya, which was a mistake. A casual trip to a store ended with shouting and tears. Stupid Shibuya whores! Went then to Shinjuku, where everyone was nice and we could buy clothes with horribly mistranslated English and play video games next to chain-smoking hip kids.

- Speaking of the T-Shirt, "Destroy My Mind. When Do We Know That An Individual Or Group of Individuals Has Understood The Same Thing By The Linguistic Act?" Really, how do we? It's a good question.

- The morning today was spent at the Tsukiji Fish Market, which is kind of like the fish market in Seattle, except that you can get killed at the Tsukiji Fish Market. First, the thing is HUGE. There are giant warehouses with frozen, gutted, giant tunas lying on the ground while fisherman smoked and yelled. Beyond that, there were booths where they sold every conceivable fish part. And beyond that, there were sushi places. It was like a microcosm of Japan's economy. And everywhere -- seriously, everywhere -- were these pallet jacks, little flatbed trucks, except the motor was also the steering wheel (imagine a washing machine attached to a plank of wood, with a guy standing at the washing machine). These things flew around us at all times, and there were thousands of them (we never saw the same guy twice). They surrounded us once, 1950s motorcycle gang-style. I swear, there has to be a famous Japanese personal injury case involving these things -- it's that crazy.

- Goodbye Tokyo, Hello Hong Kong!

Konichiwa, Bitches!
A&S