(Top: Here's Mark. He had just dished out some Irish stew when out of nowhere he threw a car bomb into the middle of the crowd. Luckily the flaming bottle was quick snatched from the air drunk! No one was hurt)


St. Patrick’s Day

We had us a wee little St. Paddy’s Day celebration out here in the sticks o March 17th. Mark, a fellow JET and a good buddy, is our resident Irishman. Like last year, he invited his friends out to the inaka and we gathered together in his cozy apartment for some Irish stew, hot whiskeys and a wee bit ‘o’ that ol’ Irish Cheer. Everything was going great until my car exploded outside. All of the 20 or so people at the party froze in fear, all except for Mark, that is, who was still dancing around like nothing had even happened at all. When I asked him what the Pepper Bomb was all about he just said, “I dunno, mate! (Right: Cheers!) They must be after your Lucky Charms!” and he kept on dancing the Riverdance while a-whistlin’ the Irish Spring jingle.

Much to Mark’s dismay, we were all growing tired of listening to The Cranberries, so he rallied the group and skipped us over to his local Mama-san’s for some more drinks and karaoke. For those of you who don’t know what a Mama-san’s is, it basically a little mom and pop joint in a small town. The “Mama-san” term I learned from Mark, but it’s pertinent because usually each one of these little places is run by a very composed woman who is usually anywhere from 40-80 years old. (Above: I brought my Yaya's hat for good luck, and o' course, my trusty hip flask! Jeff wearing his usual nsty sour pus face in every pic. I'll try not to publish any more of that sarly mug.) Towns could have one of these places if it’s a smaller town, or up to 5-6 for bigger towns. I think they are great because after going a few times you are recognized and appreciated and often are served some small morsels “sabis” (service), or, “free”. It’s like a Japanese Cheers. Boy if you could have seen the look on her face as us warm-bellied gaijin come-a-tumblin’ through the door one by one, the line of them never seeming to end! In the end we gathered around a couple ‘o’ big tables, fired up the karaoke machine and danced about like a bunch of drunken Leprechauns, which we wished were true, but only Mark fit that title to a “T.” (Right: Marko. Can a person look any more Irish than this?)