I am killing people...

My breath is killing people. I went to have yakiniku for lunch. Yakiniku is a kind of a way for eating meat; grilling meat on an iron net and you eat them whenever they are ready. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what it is. The matter is I ate it with lots of garlic. It’s meant to eat with it, but I had too much. I noticed I have been pain in anybody’s ass when my sister looked at me and simply said I stunk. I was sitting the backseat of our car and she was driving. She was supposed to concentrate in driving, though.

Now I am sitting in front of my PC. There are 5 girls around me. Well it’s not a good thing. If you are here you would think it more. Hopefully they are too drunk to notice.

Nuts

I keep forgetting to post journal, in these days. I wrote something about my brother-in-law who left our house the day before yesterday. He yelled at my sister, his wife, and landscape guys who would make their yard for no reason. Yep there was a reason, but he was drunk and didn’t know the better. While my sister was talking with the landscape guys, their kid left to have fun herself. My sister didn’t notice she’d gone. Unfortunately, the husband who didn’t want to join the meeting for his night shift work found the kid hanging around. He thought it was impossible and decided to blame my sister. He stormed to the room and started yelling at my sister; and somehow, I don’t know how his brain calculated, he ordered the landscape guys to leave. He drinks beer a lot. My mother, who had a phone call from my sister, ran to the room and found the mess. He was still shouting, shouting at something. My mother said to him he was crazy and what he said was like this “Yes, I am nuts. But I am a parent too” The nuts part killed me, because he really is. I couldn’t help but laugh. However the other people were very serious, so I quit it. My mother told me to get my father to sort the thing out. While I was looking for my father, my great brother-in-law left the house himself. He hasn’t been back since then. Well, this is not the first time, so no one was surprised at all. Even we told her to get divorced. Well they should.

Anyway, this is not what I want to write today. Shoot, I forgot the thing…

In the box

I hadn’t written for any journal for a while. I had to give a speech at Toastmasters. Well, that cannot be an excuse however I was pretty much preoccupied with that. And yet I made a crappy speech yesterday. So that sucks.

Anyway I have to some things to write down here, or I forget what happened recently. The biggest thing was my dog, about 16 year-old, died from old age. I and she practically grew up together. She was a pretty nice smart dog. Besides she knew how to hunt animals and stuff. This might sound crucial, but you should’ve seen her hunting a snake. When I was about 13, I was walking across the front yard at our house. I saw a snake also wriggling across the yard. The dog was right next to me. And there was another dog which died 2 years ago. They started circling around the snake. One did clockwise and the other did counterclockwise. There was no way to get out for the snake. It didn’t even raise its head to scare the dogs. That must have been scared. One of the dogs bit the snake’s tail and shook it while the snake kept its eyes on the other one. Snake had been smashed on the concrete. In brief, the other dog did the same thing. This action had been done till the snake died. And as for snake, every time it crushed onto the ground, it disgorged a mouse. They smelled like hell. As soon as the snake died, I picked it up with twigs and threw it away. When I came back to the place, I found no mouse. Those dogs’ mouse smelled like rotten meet. They must have eaten.

Well, I am not saying the dog was disgusting. She was smart, I mean. Anyway, she entertained me a lot and gave me a good time.

We knew she was dying by her mouth. Something was growing in her mouth. It could be a cancer. One side of her mouth was puffed up and the ramp made her face was slightly crooked. She had it since last year. Her legs also went weak. It must be from her age. 10 days before the day she died, she couldn’t walk anymore. Then we knew she was going to die.

The strange thing of our family ritual, we throw a dog into a river when it dies. Without exception, this time also we threw the dog into the river near our house. I got phone call from my mother that morning. She told me the dog died and it must not be long ago. It was about 6 am. I biked as fast as possible to get to our farm. I didn’t find her where she was living. I turned around and found a big cardboard. I knew exactly what it contained: the dog. My father put already put it in.

We got to the river around noon. We were careful not to be seen, because throwing dog is not allowed by the law. However there was a man hanging around the bridge. We decided not to bother to wait him leave. We would just dump the box into the river. My father and I carried the box to the middle of the bridge. And on count three, we dumped it into the water. We stayed a while to say good bye to the dog. We came back to our car; we parked the end of the bridge. Nevertheless, unluckily the wind was very strong that day and it blew the box towards us. Within 1 minute the box landed on the riverside where right beneath where we were. It got stuck. We could do anything so we left there, hoping the box would find the way out.

Usually we don’t go back to where we threw a dog away. But this time, one of our co-workers’ daughter wrote a letter to the dog. The kid rarely met the dog, though. I don’t think the dog could read Japanese even it was alive. Anyway, my mother and I went back to the bridge. We really hoped we wouldn’t see the box again. But we did. The cardboard got heck out of the stuck, but got stuck again. We stopped at the middle of the bridge and yelled “good-bye” to the dog and threw the letter into the water.

This is the biggest thing happened since I wrote till today.

Cows are amazing

I have to write something for my second speech at toastmasters. Well I have an idea, but I don’t know how to start…and all. So I decided to write a journal.

What I did today, I ate cow’s heart. Japanese people have some strange habit, eating strange food. If you find Japanese on a road or at a bar, you should ask if one has eaten bugs. Well ten to one, you will have an answer, yes. Have I? Yes of course. I don’t say I grew up with load of bugs in a jar on the kitchen table, but I occasionally had a chance to have bugs. You may want to say it’s not called a chance, that’s a bad luck. But you cannot refuse you friend holding fried bugs out to you with a big innocent smile. You don’t want to let him down or say shove off. Besides that bugs didn’t taste suck.

Back to cow’s heart; my father’s friend brought cow’s disgusting parts yesterday. I knew my father likes those things and so did his friend. Next day I found a bag of disgusting meat was gone (into his stomach) when I opened a fridge. I took one blackish lamp of meat out of the paper bag. That was part of a heart. It wasn’t bloody or anything and taste wise, the meat was just lean. I didn’t realize that was heart then but when I saw where I bit, there were lots of pipes. “what were these?” the answer came in a second into my brain. Blood vessels. That made me feel sick a second. I nearly took it back into the back so my father could have the rest. But being Japanese I felt I should’ve finished the meat. If you have Japanese friend and have a chance to go to a restaurant with, you should keep eyes on him. You will see he/she never fail to eat all food which is provided. Anyway, I ate the lump. It wasn’t bad.

I was still hungry. I looked into the bag again and saw if there was something I could eat other than heart. I found white looking meat. I took a piece and smelled—I cannot help but smell before eat. You don’t want to know what it smelled like. That instantly reminded me of cow’s shit—I had been working for a daily farm for some reason—made me gag. My mother was next to me and she said. “That’s cow’s intestine. Probably they didn’t wash that enough, so shit is still sticking on. Watch out” How could I? But being Japanese I couldn’t help but challenge. I ate it. I really hoped they washed it well and just the smell remained. I felt like eating cow’s shit to be honest. I even doubt if that was a real cow’s pat. I finished anyway, though.

By the time I recovered from cow’s astonishing skill of knocking you out, another friend of my father came and gave us another cow’s strange part of meat. No kidding. It really happened and I am pretty sure, I swear to God, that my father will finish them in a day or two.