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Sometimes I check out what’s playing on the ファミリー劇場 retro channel because once I happened upon Ultraseven there and hope that I’ll get lucky again with an old favorite like オトナの男, too, but last week they broadcast a 2005 crime series called 新米事件記者・三咲 featuring an actress who struck me as an older version of my niece. I’m usually way off¹ with these connections, but I insist upon them, like the lead singer of the Blow Monkeys and the kid who plays Jason Todd on Titans, and this time I had a captive audience, especially a few days later when a Godzilla marathon included Final Wars:
I think it’s great to resemble someone that’s come before, not only because of the odds against it (or for simulation conspiracies), but also as it’s proof the model was successful enough the first time around for the designers to bring it back.

¹The Barbarella and Cleopatra 2001-like track in the long-broken link starts around 3:48, and how I’ve missed SPEED☆STAR! Off to the CD boxes I go!

That’s what I might call a photoblog site, if I were to host one, though it took me this long to realize I could just create this single post and maintain it indefinitely by editing the “Published on:” date with each addition.

Try this next time, preferably after a months-long hiatus from running. If it’s anything like yesterday, I probably won’t be recovering for the “after” shot a week later. If ever at all.

That’ll be the tourism slogan. Once again, I’ll leave it to 老婆 to preserve the more important photos. The one I really regret not having taken (like the Muslim cab driver in Vancouver with the flip-phone held in his turban, that was awesome) was of an old man washing dishes in a place we ate near 龍山 while smoking.

Self storage is a part of life—well, mine—and my current facility is a converted warehouse of a government contractor which has seen more profitable times. Here’s what happened when I went down the wrong stairs.

I’m down now 30K calories vs. ounces, no matter how much I run (and next week’s release of pure-cane Mountain Dew won’t help), so I’m augmenting my regiment with the occasional ride. I think what I like so much about these waterways is how their network of thoroughfares remains for the most part unpolluted like the streets it quietly runs alongside. There’s a world of difference even from the short trip to the office. I’m not passed up by an Expedition burning a gallon of gas because I didn’t feel like flooring it off the light, don’t have to care about who’s parked where or have to drown out the voices in my head telling me to run myself off the road for driving to work everyday with only slightly less ridiculing ones on the radio. Then again, the risk remains that I’ll be hit by flack from a chase between time-traveling killing machines. Or worse.

We’ve already gone here and there together, but 老婆 insists this was our official honeymoon. Lets me bring up my life-long interest in the origin of the word, at least ever since seeing a Korean club with the name in Houston—which I look back now and would describe as seedy, probably a front for prostitution—and making the odd connection with the French word “miel”; this would include

蜜月 (mìyuè)
みつげつ (mitsugetsu) and the aforementioned
밀월 (milwol)

Etymology suggests a Proto-Indo-European heritage for the word “honey”. Amazing how small the world was back when it didn’t take a ten-hour flight between continents with Virgin’s impressive video library.

She’s put most of the rest on Facebook, but I’ve learned my lesson from Textamerica and am not about to trust my online immortality with the latest fad. SOL, of course, if WordPress doesn’t save to standalone HTML like Movable Type.

An 8-GB memory stick vs. 128K (which was the shit back then), sure, but when pics, not to mention videos, take up that much more space like the latest versions of the same ol’ software on hard drives these days, it all evens out. Must be because I recall the days before bandwidth was measured in M’s and G’s, I’ve always strove for minimum footprint so I’ll size down to 640×320 uploads, thank you very much. Besides, I’ve never really been an album-keeper; hard copies always mess up the images in my mind. Battery life may have improved, too, but powering that comparatively huge LCD kills that as well. Meaning, there’s no.freaking.difference.

I biked back from and to the dealership today, and got a more intimate look at the neighborhoods between, counting one yard sign apiece for both candidates; Obama gets another point for the bumpersticker on a minivan parked outside the elementary school I passed (which had a huge Longhorn one, too, no kidding!) and that fucking idiot McCain whose Joe the Plumber turns out to be neither a plumber nor named Joe, his name is everywhere.