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Gaijin De Tokyo

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Woke up this morning still drunk and, however improbable, still f*cking my girlfriend (maybe the sleeping part was just a dream)...The woman somehow managed to tidy herself up without the aid of a make-up artist, waved bye-bye and threw herself into the waiting arms of the Shinjuku masses.

So I was rid of her but she had forgotten to make me my miso soup. I wasn't that hungry but I felt I should eat something to settle my stomach. Her miso tastes lovely...

Then I had a craving for cornflakes with a few scoops of vanilla ice cream but not having either I decided to try the natto-kimuchi sticks that your date gave me to assuage my hurt feelings at not receiving an omiyage from the Netherlands.

Fifteen minutes of dry heaves ensued in which I seriously considered calling an ambulance. But a bottle of Evian later I had recovered sufficiently to curse the both of you and to ruminate on whether I could make conspiracy to commit murder charges stick...

Calm now having been restored, however, I realize I have no one to blame but myself. Anyone who willingly eats a natto-kimuchi shitstick deserves to be mocked and abused like fresh gaijin meat. Am I wrong?
 
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Pink_Floyd87

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That's very interesting, but why do you have to make every post a novel, i mean i would just love to hear your life story but....i think that every post should be short quick and to the point, but your posts seem to be random points streching to no exact conclusion of what you're talking about.
 
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