Mr. J.

Second from the left.

(Edit: Mr. J sent me an email with his own high-larious notes to this entry. I have updated it with his comments in RED. This will likely make the entry hard to read but you should try really really hard. Yes me and Mr. J are always this cheezy and in-group. Deal.) -- Wed. 7/4/07.

Mr. J is a sophisticated oil tycoon who brandishes the same type of good humor and charm last exhibited by wealthy, water-polo-playing British estate owners circa the 1950's. (Water polo?? I HATE horses...) He doffs his hat when greeting well-appointed ladies, offers his rum pudding round the table before taking his portion, and flaunts his pinky finger while sipping his English Breakfast in a manner so flattering that fainting among Irish housemaids was once commonly known as "J's Affliction" and treated with leeches as was the remedy of the time. (Since the introduction of the leeches, casualities of "J's Affliction" has gone down 239%) Indeed, this virile young gentleman is the finest example of careful breeding (the back of a Volkswagen) at its best and well-suited to the phrase, "A man who enjoys the swirl of his brandy, but is careful to never over-swirl lest his bounty runneth to the dogs."

As fetching as his description might be, he is best experienced through his exploits and pursuits (various eating contests and baby seal clubbing), in so far as a man of such stock as Mr. J can best be understood without being witness to his various charities.

And now for the anecdotes.

Mr. J Appreciates the Beauty and History of Japan. (Mostly robot toys and battered and fried foods)
Mr. J came to visit me in Japan a few months ago and we had a wonderful time. We went to Tokyo, visited those touristy sites that a city-dweller (city-dweller? since when are rickety cabins in the middle of the forest considered cities?) only goes to once a friend comes to town, and generally had lots of private time in our own little coupley-cheezy world. There was one occasion when I took him to Kiyomizudera (that sounds made up), which offers an incredibly gorgeous view of Kyoto and is all around one of my favorite temples of all time (right after the Temple of Doom from Indiana Jones). We went at night to enjoy one of its evening illuminations (and chicken ducks) and I proceeded to tell Mr. J a little bit about this favorite temple of mine so that he might more appreciate the excursion (and get some free tea).

So here I am, giving him one of my best mystical-sounding overly exaggerated descriptions ("This is one of Kyoto's most ancient temples, dating back to the 800's when the only building materials that existed in Japan were seaweed and honey, and 4093989489 Buddhist monks toiled 298374897 days to erect an original structure that was 29384987 meters tall..." (yeah, that is pretty impressive...)) when he whips out his camera and starts shaking it while snapping pictures. I asked him why he was shaking his camera (whilst he was pointing it at this most ancient and spiritual structure) and he told me that it was because shaking it slightly makes this really really cool blurry effect that ends up distorting the picture beyond recognition and, you know, looks all artsy and shit. (Stop impeding my creativity!)


I stopped telling Mr. J about the historical importance of things after that point because to him, it always just ended up being blurrrry! (First off, I only took 3 blurry pictures. Second, shut up)

Blurrrrrrrry!

Mr. J Likes His Dialogue Light, But Not Too Light. (I don't have any comments about this section...you know why...)
I generally use the same tone and words whenever talking to super cute loveable things. This means that I may refer to Mr. J and my pet cat both as "sweetiepies" because they are both in the same category in my head (under the filename: Cuuuuuuuuuuuute!). I can't help it. I just think Mr. J is the most adorable thing ever and I often find myself encouraging him to fit into this niche. But he often complains that I talk to him like a dog. And honestly... I totally do. I don't want to give too many examples but here are a few...

"My my, someone's gonna eat that entire burrito! Who's my hungry boy?"
"Awwwww, aren't you a schweepy baby?"
"Oh my gosh you're sooooo cute! From now on your name shall be Honeybutt-Cuteball Adorable Pants!"

And so on in that fashion. So over the past few years, I have taken this rugged, handsome brut of a man and reduced him to a Corgy.

But I couldn't help it! He's just sooooo cute!

Mr. J is Respectful of Japan and Her People. (whom he is much taller than)
On our way to another evening illumination, I became a bit confused by the twisty uphill streets of Eastern Kyoto. Luckily, there was a crossing guard (crossing guard?? I though he was the Emperor!) clad in an orange "event parking" vest who was holding maps to hand out to the eager, lost masses. (he was also wearing raver-like flashy lights and a mini light saber)

I walked up to him and asked in simple Japanese for one of his maps, of which he of course obliged with a "douzo" (English: Here ya go!). Upon receiving the map, I responded politely with "Arigatou gozaimasu!" (this also sounds made up) and set my (gorgeous) eyes up the hill.

Now Mr. J, who had been here about a (2) week(s), had picked up this Japanese phrase for "thank you" (I thought I was asking for drugs) and had been using it liberally (as many times as I can, as fast as I can) as to adjust in some small way to the culture of the country he was visiting. So after my thank you, he also thanked the man with this:

"Arigatou gozaimasu!" (still sounds made up) (said exactly in that deep Japanese voice George Takei uses on Star Trek and Heroes) (it's actually copying the Iron Cook host from Futurama..... Eye-yunnn Cooookuduhhhh!!)
*deeeeeeeeep bowwwwww* (now, I still dispute how deep this alleged bow really was....)

The crossing guard (whom I thought was the Emperor) was completely taken aback by this gesture because Mr. J's (alleged) bow was so deep that his (alleged) torso was completely parallel to the ground. You see, this is the type of bow reserved only for royalty or for when someone gives you a free Trans Am or something. Hardly the bow necessary for a man that was essentially a (blinking) map stand, but I hope he appreciated it! (I doubt it...damned ingrates...)

After we were on our way uphill, I laughed my (beautiful) face off. Because Mr. J just wants to belong... (in your pants)

And now, some words of zen:

"Sometimes, I wonder how I can run around the forest all day without slipping on all these moss-covered rocks and braining myself on all these exposed roots. And then I remember that it's because I am a ninja." -- some girl who was wearing jikatabi

"When it comes time to pick out that first tattoo, remember: it doesn’t matter how much you like that one comic book. There’s always a chance that eight years later someone will make a movie of it that stars Sylvester Stallone. And you’ll be fucked." -- BNH

Name that movie!