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#@#@# there are days like these

That are full of gawkers.

The shimokitazawa festival was under way.

I’m not curry-oius.

In fact, I have no images to share.

Why join into the origamism if you can just be symbiotic with it?

The fashion twats were all out in force.

Roving, posing, waiting for a fashion blog to pick up on their awesome style.

It all BORES me. Said Das i

Well, you have contractual obligations to do the WORK. Said the suit.

But I don’t want to! 嫌だ!!

何で泣いてるの?

ここ嫌だから!

See? Humans are wearing their hearts on their sleeve. This is too easy. If I go out there, and do my thing…

Mass pandoniom!

Like a pandemic of laughter?

Man, I ain’t doing nothing yet!

Just you wait!

The translator sat at his favorite cafe in shimokitazawa.

I’m not gonna BUY into this CURRYosity!

The subliminal waves were affecting el hybrïdo’s thought waves.

Just force people to take it by offering it for free!

You can’t say no to FREE!!

You are contractually obligated to receive when handed a tissue.

Have a seat.

No. I just stand here. Said el hybrïdo.

That lurking shape hovering above me causes un-eaze.

But I just stand.

Ok, if you’re gonna stand, then you should hand out flyers.

For what? I have no ideas! I’m a fucking ハーフ

ハーフはね

なに?なんかモンクあるの?

There’s no monk here. Said the translator.

You really a translator? It sounds like you’re making up stories.

Did I tell you the story of Das i?

Yea. Heard it. Boring.

The bored and desperate j-rones wandered aimlessly on the streets of shimokitazawa. They were so bored they walked up to the translator.

You are not from here!

Um, are you BUY CURRYous?

I am curious.

Why wouldja be CURRYous about me? Lemme guess, you have never really met one have you?

No no I meet lots foreigners.

Obviously not enough if you are using that word.

What word?

Ok, lets have this same conversation, but this time in english ok?

And they had the same conversation.

オツカレーライス!

面白い外人ね!

That word right there!

What word?

That offensive word!

What word?

So you really can’t see how racist you are can you?

The japanese dudes continued to hand out flyers for a fucking curry “festival” all the while in black face.

Ya. Black face is hip.

And funny too!

I’d say that curry is the shit!

Yo now, you don’t be makin no fun of me now? Asked the japanese dude.

The translator sat under clouds. Floating puffy white clouds.

I think I see a plate of curry.

10

#@#@# Andy your a star!

Killer.

Yea, the killers.

No, I mean, the hatred in my heart.

Yea, I know, everybody has it.

Andy was thrown back.

It hurt his back.

Hit the wall eh?

Pink Floyd.

Andy, I know you know that they don’t know that you know.

The commuter tried to read the sentence again.

And you ain’t gonna get what we said either!

The two gaijin laughed on the train heartily.

Like a steak! Laughed the gaijin. What a coikidink!

Yea, we have many many lives.

Apparently!

The old man, oblivion to the synchronishitty around him, grew red. Banzai red.

Hancho was yelling above the propeller.

This is it boys! All your training, all your suffering ends here! This is where you save mother Nippon! This is where you honor your spirit! This is where you do the impossible! There is no death if you sacrifice yourself! Banzai banzai banzai.

At least that’s what I think he’s thinking.

The other gaijin laughed as he typed. I can just see the red flag fractaling behind his head.

That’s some AR.

So in another parallel paradox, the Japanese won the war.

Yea, that’s how it works.

Jesus!

Buddha!

Ha. This is what it’s like to think like an アメリケン

Hancho pulled is pilot out of the simulator.

That’s right son, you have been perfectly safe this whole time. Nothing harmed you.

Meaning?

Think it out for yourself.

But it was so real! I mean, I really thought we were gonna lose the war!

We never lose our way. Promised the hancho. As long as we nipponese speak nipponese and write in kanji, the foreign powers cannot hack our minds!

I wish I couldn’t do this! I wish I never hacked this! The confusion isn’t worth it!

The hancho looked at his young soldier.

And the old man looked back up from his imagination.

Well a least that’s what I think he’s thinking.

Then it is so.

Holy shirt!

You’re a fashion model!

I’m a Lock Star. I am what I say I am.

eye yam what eye yam.

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