Cold-chillin’ with my dead hom… er, my Japanese homiez.

by Jul 15, 20020 comments

A neutron goes into a bar and asks the bartender, “How much for a beer?”The bartender replies, “For you, no charge.”

Hahahahahaha, nothing like starting the week with a science joke.

Recently Heard in English Class

Shiraki-sensei: What sports do you like?
Student:<in Japanese> Eh? Do I like passports?

Sadasue-sensei writes “doubt” on the board.
Sadasue-sensei: Do you know how to pronounce this?
Student: BOOTY!!

I cannot adequately describe how pleased I was to meet some Japanese Homiez the other day. I mean, these guys were so West-Side happy, that I actually have to spell homiez with a ‘z’.

Me, Fletch, Mihoko, and Garath were sitting on the side of the road trying to figure out where we should go next when this low-riding somethingorother pulls up with the windows down, bumping the new Eminem track.

Already, I know this is going to be sweet.

I take the initiative and, abandoning the usual greeting of ‘hello’, instead with tongue firmly in cheek bust out with ‘Wassup.’ They all just nodded back and said, “Owassup!”

Excellent, they know the basics. Communication will be possible.

They asked where I was from and I told them Oregon, which is right above California on the “nishi-kaigan”(west coast). They heard this and their ears perked up. “Oh, you are West Side?” and one of them proceeds to hold up the ubiquitous “W” hand-sign. Me and Fletcher’s jaws dropped at how cool this was (Mihoko didn’t get it ’cause she’s Japanese and Garath didn’t get it ’cause….. well, he’s Welsh) and then started laughing our asses off and slapping high fives to the dudes.

I reveled in the bizarre cultural exchange I was having for only a second before some dude with saggy pants, a backwards baseball cap with what looks like a ‘fro puffing out from underneath, comes swaggering up drinking straight from a bottle of wine (I should mention that it’s actually legal in Japan to drink in public. I can hear many of you packing your bags already).

Turns out this guy goes by the street-name of Yuki….. which is actually his real name, but we were standing in the street so I guess it’s his street-name as well. You know…… word up and all that.

Anyhow, he’s a really nice guy who’s source of street-cred seems to come from the fact that he lived in L.A. for a month. I asked him how many people he had to shoot while he was there, but he didn’t seem to get the joke.

The guys who were in the Eminem car were now all sitting on the hood (probably talking about ho’s and shit) and I asked if they were his friends. He smiled and motioned to them with his bottle of wine and said in Engrish, “Yes! My Homies!!” This was all so cute, the smile on my face must have been ear to ear.

So he brings me over and I meet his homies who were all really nice actually, and then introduces me to some of his hood-rat girlfriends whom I failed to get a picture of, which is too bad because they were pretty hot despite the fact they were as dumb as milk cartons.

As usual, the Japanese twist on things was an incredibly entertaining and fascinating experience. I mean, these guys, probably considered hardcore by Japanese standards, were totally cool to a complete stranger (though maybe I had some kind of weird street-cred for being a gaijin from the same country that most of their favorite music and clothes come from) and in no way took offense to me and my friends checking out they way they spend their Saturday nights. If I tried talking to ‘homiez’ back home, in all likelihood I’d get the proverbial (and probably literal) cap in my azz.

Twice the fun, none of the busted caps. I love it.

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