Short People

World in Motion*

Watching Australia pound Japan was a good experience.

We went to our local sports bar, not 100m from our house. By "sports bar" I mean regular bar, but with darts, a pool table, and overhead projector showing constant soccer, directly fed from one of the three devoted cable soccer channels.

As we had stuck our heads in the week before to ask about booking a table, and been advised with just a fraction of pity, that all tables had been booked long ago. But if we turned up early enough, there might be some standing room for us poor, unorganised Australians.

So, we turn up three hours before kickoff.

Standing room only.

So, to kill time, we drank beer and played darts. That is, until the electronic dart board was switched off. Tonight is about football, don't you know??

Anyway, the people started filing in. A group of already tipsy business men were amongst the first in. Upon seeing us, they asked where we were from. On learning we were Australian, IT WAS ON. We had an enemy. They said something about ninjas, we smiled and nodded back...our trash talking put Mudine and Green to shame.

Death to the foreigner.

Anyway, the bar filled up.



Not one other Australian in the place. Our enemy kept pointing us out to other arrivals, who would promptly give us a look. We began to feel like zoo exibits. The complimentary nuts did little to help.

Anyway, the telecast began! Japans broadcast had a pirate theme to it, perhaps suggesting they were going to steal the golden Cup.



Game on.
Japans first goal was met with, unsurprisingly, deafening chants of "Nippon, Nippon, Nippon"! No "Oi, Oi, Oi" followed. And these people call themselves sporting fans. Pfft. We exchanged looks with our enemy. They held up one finger to suggest they were one-nil up, I pointed to my watch to suggest there was plenty of time. Oh yeah. Pistols at dawn wasnt far away.

Half time arrived. Another, crazy-hatted enemy approached us, with bottle in hand. Expecting a glassing, I gathered a handful of complimentary nuts with which to blind him. Anyway, he turned out to be a nice guy. He handed me a Heineken, and we made small talk about how good the Samurai Blue was this year. Heh. Little did he know.

Game end was nearing. Our main enemy kept giving us looks. Oh, we'll show him.

One all:



Two - one:



Three - one:



Thirty seconds after the game ended:



The enemy was defeated. I bought my crazy-hatted enemy a beer, and made small talk about how ordinary the Samurai Blue was this year...I shook hands with my original enemy, and we left the bar, heads held high, basking in the love and respect of our former foes.

Well, they didnt stab us. Thats good enough for me.



*I know, its easy. But I'm hardly going to call it Cup of Life now, am I?

One bourbon, one scotch, one beer

Hmmm.

Freestylin'

Behold, the latest sport drink to hit the vending machines of Tokyo. Not trying to state the obvious here, but it does taste a little fruity:



And theres also this one, which raises so many questions:





What happened to Bubble Man 1?
What does Bubble Man 2 taste like? Does it taste like an actual Bubble Man or does it taste like the Soda Planet?
Where, exactly, is the Soda Planet? Is it inhabited by Bubble Men?
Why is the Bubble Man Rocketship so cramped?
Does the lack of engine mean interglactic space travel is impossible, and the Bubble Man Rocketship just a place for Bubble Man on Man hanky panky to occur, as appears to be the case between the Bubble captain and the Bubble assistant??

Any suggestions will be rewarded with a can of Bubble Man 2 for your very own.

Anyway, not much other news, except for someone catching on fire at the club I DJ at (Ruby Room in Shibuya, first Thursday of every month).

Yep, someone caught on actual, real life fire. Ive organised a re-enactment of it for you below:

Someone on fire, yesterday

***UPDATE***

Bubble Man 2 tastes like green flavoured sugar. Its likely the inhabitants of the Soda Planet are diabetic.