No Maps for These Territories

Today Yuzo and I check out Don Quixote, a CRAZY eight story building that has every imaginable good and then some.  Then we head out for monja-yaki for dinner, which I’ve not only never had before, but I’ve never even heard of.

Here’s my only bit of life in the hostel room.  I bought a plant, and I put him in my empty one cup sake.  It makes my tiny crappy room a little homier.

For lunch Yuzo grabs a hamburger in mystery sauce.

I go for hamburger with omrice, better known as scrambled eggs with ketchup.

The Japanese will seriously put a hot dog in ANYTHING.  Even a goddamn taco.

Hand made onigiri on the streets of Akihabara.  Very cool.  You pick what you want in it, and they make it to order.

This is a game where you put in money and try to grab piles of rocks.  Seriously.  It’s a game where the only prize is a fistful of small useless stones.

Yum, that’s octopus jerky skewers in Don Quixote.

This curry is very cheerful.  And encouraging.

Neon Genesis Evangelion themed ramen in a UFO machine.  Neeeeeeeerdy.

Bondage themed dongles for your cell phone.  I’m sure your boss will appreciate that one.  Or your girlfriend.  Oh wait, you don’t have one if you have one of these.

Kurt Cobain action figure??

Kevin and Range drink like women.

Monja is crazy.  It’s cheese, mochi (rice paste), and veggies and other ingredients like fish eggs, corn, meat, you name it.  You throw it all on a grill until it’s firm, and then you scrape it off in little bites and eat it.  It looks like vomit and tastes like heaven.

Here’s the start of monja.

And the frightening end result.

Delicious!

The monja crew!

Magical floating noodles on the streets of Ueno.

We have all decided that shochu is freaking disgusting and should never be drunk by anyone for any reason.  Stick to sake.

Good night.

Short picture day today.  Working again with Range and Yuzo in Shinjuku.  Pretty much just worked all day, got some ramen, came home at night and hung out in the Beer and Coffee pub down the street.

Corner ramen joint in Shinjuku.  I love that you sit about two feet from where they make your dish, and watch them toss in the miso ball, and cook the noodles and what not.

Preparing the happy.

Yuzo and Range drinking a cold one and waiting.

Look at that.  Perfect little egg, pile of pork, delicious broth.  I love ramen more than a fat kid loves cake.

Victory.

This is the hand drier at work.  There’s absolutely no paper towels anywhere in Japan, either they expect you to have a handkerchief and dry your own hands, or they provide one of these high tech bastards to blow the water off your hands into the trough below.

The japanese-style toilet at work.

That button on the right does exactly what you think it does.  High pressure bum blasting.  Still haven’t tried it. 

Our new friends from the hostel.  Rob is on the left and unable to make a normal face at any time.

As you can see here.  Also, Swedish people are apparently beer thieves.

Rob with his handy reference material.  So far, I don’t think it’s working out too well though.