Post 1,000, Bitches!

As promised, and in accordance with ironic prophecy, the post relating to this milestone will be incredibly lame.

Grant-a-palooka aught 8 kicked off Tuesday night with my monthly 日本語会 meeting. As usual, the Japanese gathered in the parking lot and didn’t enter the restaurant until all the Americans were seated at one table, then they occupied a separate table and ignored us for the evening. The next time, if I bother to attend at all, I’m going to encourage the Americans to spread out amongst all our reserved tables in order to force the J-peeps to engage. That will likely deter their future attendance, once they realize dinners with the Japan – America society mean dealing with Americans, but I don’t care. As long as they’re physically here I might as well drag their minds kicking and screaming across the border.

Wednesday night I saw Iron Man with a buddy and we had dinner at Hooters. Iron Man is an awesome superhero flick, better than any other with the possible exception of Batman Begins. Everyone involved in the last Hulk and both Fantastic Four floating turds films should be required to watch IM before they’re ever allowed to attempt another. Hooters was okay, typical of its kind. Our waitress was friendly and possibly overqualified to wear the shirt, the food and beer decent, and the place noisy and irritating. It takes them awhile to bring the check, so if you go I recommend asking for the check before you actually order. Being the last place in the world I’m likely to find a Japanese girlfriend, we didn’t linger.

For today, my actual 誕生日, I have no time to celebrate. Lunch was a ham sandwich and I may go out to dinner if the rains stop, but otherwise it’s just housework and 日本語 homework. And I’m done.