Skip to main content

ohayou gozaimasu!

Japanese TV personalities really have it bad when they stay over in hotels. The staff are apparently all-too-willing to hand over a guest’s room keys in the name of entertainment. This results in early morning wake-up calls featuring mafia tommy-gun attacks, bazookas, and other really unpleasant ways to wake up.

Actually, if you want to see the TV programming I regularly contend with, you should keep up with TV in Japan, a blog devoted to such sanity-damaging broadcasts.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

send this to your crush without context.

dan simmons’ fiction

“I came back for my own purposes,” said the Time Traveler, looking around my booklined study. “I chose you to talk to because it was . . . convenient. And I don’t want you to do a goddamned thing. There’s nothing you can do. But relax . . . we’re not going to be talking about personal things. Such as, say, the year, day, and hour of your death. I don’t even know that sort of trivial information, although I could look it up quickly enough. You can release that white-knuckled grip you have on the edge of your desk.” I tried to relax. “What do you want to talk about?” I said. “The Century War,” said the Time Traveler. I blinked and tried to remember some history. “You mean the Hundred Year War? Fifteenth Century? Fourteenth? Sometime around there. Between . . . France and England? Henry V? Kenneth Branagh? Or was it . . .” “I mean the Century War with Islam,” interrupted the Time Traveler. “Your future. Everyone’s.” He was no longer smiling. Without asking, or offering to pour me any, he