Clack, Clack, Clack. I press my teeth together as I sit on a stool in the tiny, five-person bar. The edges of my vision blur as I stare vacantly at her angelic face, stretching and tightening, as she mouths voiceless words. Is she speaking Japanese? I don’t even know at this point. Wish I had…
It’s a Monday night and I’m standing in a bar bedecked with crushed crimson velvet, staring at a phallic mound of vibrating silicone. I’m in Japan and, up until now, most depictions of female sexuality I’ve seen have involved women in school uniforms. Such representations can be viewed in any 7/11 porn mag section, on…
She beams at me expectantly. I look back confused and unsure of what she is saying.
Damn I wish I spoke Japanese.
I step onto the train carriage and dart towards the only available seat. Seats on trains are a hot commodity in Tokyo, so I am feeling pretty stoked. I peel my raincoat off…
I was in the Tokyo suburb of Shibuya when I first laid eyes on one. Nothing about my bright and hectic surroundings felt familiar to me, until I recognised the spiky-haired cartoon hellraiser printed on a stranger’s T-shirt. But there was something not quite right about the Bart Simpson I was seeing. This Bart was…
The trainee clerk at 7/11 gives me a nervous smile as she fumbles my items through the scanner. I wait for her to see the last item on the bench.
She pauses. She says something to me in Japanese which I don't understand, but I recognise the word I was expecting to hear – “Neko.”…
Wet necks stretch gracefully; curled tendrils trace cheekbones as heads balance above the steaming water. A wave ripples out as breasts, followed by hips and thighs, emerge and wade to the bath’s edge, swinging over onto the textured tiles. A pair of eyes follow with interest.
A young girl watches the woman pass by, eyes…
It’s dark outside, and I’ve found myself bent over a toilet seat with a hand on my bum and a foot in my face. Grunting softly, my companion pushes harder on my exposed posterior – the Band-Aid just won’t stay put. Meanwhile, our other accomplice is gingerly bandaging up her ankle, inspecting for any signs…
I was trying to explain to him why the only phrase I knew in French besides, “Oui, oui,” was “Will you please take off your shirt for me darling?”
He seemed perplexed.
“There was this song that was huge in Australia in 2009 called ‘Parlez-Vous Français’ by this local band, Art Vs. Science. That phrase…
An eager young cop kits up, does his hair, knocks back a not-so-fresh brewed café latte from 7/11 and trots off to Tokyo Station, where a day full of adventure and enforcing law awaits him. By 3pm, however, he’s completed his fifth lap of the Imperial Palace gardens. His only dose of action saw him…
Our roommate, J, told me this was the coldest winter Tokyo had experienced in 48 years. He told this to Gemma, too. Information from Jonny is taken with a grain of rice, but there’s no denying that it has been exceptionally cold. Almost-50-year-storm cold? How would I know?
J had the propensity of cornering us…
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“Could you excuse me just a second,” I say calmly. But I think the look on my face has given something away.
“Everything okay?” he replies.
“Yeah, I think I just have to go do a sneaky vom.”
It’s so not a vom.
“Oh shit, really? You all right?”
Fuck no.
“Yeah, all g. Just…