The ubiquitous, filthy, disgusting, and vile sound of old men coughing can be annoying for anyone unfortunate to be near when god knows what is being expelled, but it is also set to become the sound of environmentally friendly energy at the 2020 Olympics.
The news was announced after boffins from the Ushikome Institute of Science and Technology managed to come up with a way to harness energy from the coughs of bitter old locals; enough energy in fact, to power the gymnastics center.
“With all the Chinese, Koreans, Russians, and Americans involved, the gymnastics center seemed like the logical place for this new source of power generation,” explained Musei Maehada. “We’ll be lining a thousand unhappy oldies near the entrance, attaching oxygen mask-like harnesses to their faces, and waiting for the exaggerated coughing to begin.”
It’s expected that the mere presence of thousands of foreigners on Japanese soil will trigger enough passive aggressive coughing to ensure a reliable energy supply. However, organizers are more than prepared in case there’s a shortfall. “Sure, we’re Japanese, but that doesn’t mean that we’ll put ourselves in a position where we’ll be forced to pursue reactionary solutions,” said Maehada. “If we’re not meeting our energy demands, we plan to get some mixed race couples to either make out in front of the oldies, or try to engage them in conversation.”
Maehada also addressed the theory that the use of Olympic judo rules would be a more affective way of generating power. “While provoking the old men by asserting that the Olympic rules of judo are fair and rooted in tradition would indeed get a reaction, we’re still a fair way off producing energy from irrational anger alone. Quite simply, there needs to be an understandable and measurable output of energy.”
It’s rumored that 2025 Osaka World Expo officials will also be considering the same technique, but we won’t be following up on that because nobody gives a tuppeny fart about World Expo anymore.
It’s a well-known fact that Japanese people have very ordinary swimming skills. Indeed, success in the Olympic pool can distract us from the Island Nation Water Sports Rankings (INWSR) where Japan comes stone motherless last *. This has led to Surf Lifesaving teams at crowded beaches being overwhelmed and stretched to breaking point, as more and more people struggle to stay afloat in the ocean.
“This summer was the worst I’ve ever seen,” explains bronzed Aussie open water advisor Nathan Flanagan. “Alcohol combined with water incompetence meant that we were pulling people out of the water all day everyday. Some people damn near drowned, only to go back in five minutes after they were saved, and then get rescued again. It’s a wonder we didn’t have mass fatalities.”
This critical situation has resulted in business opportunities for strong swimmers from around the world, most of who have no other marketable skills. These swimmers are now providing a service popular with the kind of people who struggle in any body of water larger than a bathtub. Local beachgoers can hire a so-called private rescuer for as little as 1000 yen an hour, or 7000 yen for a whole day.
Genesis Bdago, a strapping 27-year-old Ghanian, says that young women in particular feel comfortable with private rescuers. “My clients usually cling to their blow-up rings in the water. They never actually swim per se. They want me to stay close so that they can enjoy their day relaxed and carefree.
“Bustier women like me to protect them from water gropings, where drunk idiots try to molest them. These weirdoes are incredibly pea-hearted. Not one of them will go near my clients when I’m around. The worst was when a 19 year old hired me to protect me from a really creepy predator, who turned out to be her older brother. Filthy.”
With summer long gone, life is tough for private rescuers. Some are forced into picking up glasses in nightclubs or teaching English at unscrupulous organizations, but others manage to make their way to Okinawa where they can service holidaymakers, with the end-of-year period being particularly profitable.
But while Okinawa’s tourist industry provides a small but reliable market for the private rescuers, misunderstandings are never far away. “Women seem to think that I’ll do more than just rescue them in the water,” says 35 year old Nigerian Daniel Yeboah. “They expect me to treat them sweet and tenderly on land too, if you catch my drift. Most of the time it’s not possible anyway, given the size of the pussy here. I don’t want to boast or anything, but it’s like trying to force a zucchini into a champagne flute.
“I find that, in this country, it’s only the really large women who can accommodate me without any overt signs of discomfort, and they rarely come to the beach. But I’d definitely waive my standard hourly rate if I could link up with a woman with a lot of meat on the bone. That’s what I’m into; pendulous breasts and an ass like two beach balls. I can rock that all night long.”
As committed to saving lives as Bdago and Yeboah are, it’s painfully obvious that they (and their legion of fellow rescuers) are easy targets for harassment and exploitation. As yet neither of them have insurance, nor have they been invited to join a union. This is despite both being hired for the Miscellaneous Workers’ Union’s annual beach day in July.
Perhaps as a result of all payments being made in cash, the fledgling industry has so far gone under the radar of the authorities too. Local government officials that I spoke to seemed unconcerned by the lack of regulations, but assured me that they’d start caring if an incident occurred sparking a scrum of TV cameramen to gather at the entrance to the building.
* Tuvalu is ranked first which, considering how much swimming they’ll be doing in the near future, is a good thing.
It’s just gone 9:00am at Urayasu Station in Chiba, just a stone’s throw from Disneyland, and around half a dozen not-so-cool looking guys are gathered, waiting. The guys are known as Goofy Guys, prepared to pay a lady’s way at Disneyland, perhaps getting a photograph together in front of the castle, but seldom anything more.
Ikuko Seibyo, a common dater of Goofy Guys, is keen to point out that companionship makes a day out at the theme park complete. “It’s kind of embarrassing just going alone. In fact, there’s nothing sadder than getting into a spinning teacup by yourself. Having a companion removes that overwhelming sense of shame.”
But Seibyo makes it clear that there are downsides to the delicate arrangement. “One or two of the guys think that they can be assertive just because they pay for your entrance pass. They try to take the initiative and suggest the plan for the day. I don’t like that. I remind them that I can blow them off whenever I want. Sure, if a guy’s nice enough, and not so moley, I might let him grope me in Space Mountain. That’s all though. I’d feel guilty if I had an orgasm with a guy while my boyfriend was working hard on a building site.”
So what is it exactly that gets the Goofy Guys to part with their hard-earned cash? “I haven’t got a kiss yet, although once a got a really light hug,” says regular Goofy Guy, Aneno Kahanshin. “There’s always hope though. I guess that’s what drives us all to do this. We’re chivalrous, while maintaining perverse desires. That’s why I sit at the back of the boat when we go through It’s A Small World. Not that I ever push the issue. I know my place.”
Kahashin explains that up until now the bargaining process has traditionally been remarkably simple. “The women would come along and a financial arrangement was agreed upon. Some may have insisted on getting the Mickey Mouse ears to wear, but rarely anything more.”
These days, however, the negotiations have become increasing complicated, with even the pretty ordinary looking women demanding a meal at the restaurant inside Pirates of the Carribean, or a ton of souvenirs to shower on their buddies.
“I was eating instant ramen for weeks after my last date took me to the cleaners,” laments Kahanshin. “I didn’t know it was possible to blow that much money at a theme park in one day. She’s been texting me every week since then too, just assuming that I’ll go to a loan company so that I can spend another chunk of cash on her.”
Others have joined Kahanshin in rethinking their Goofy Guy roles, expressing concern at the level of diva-like behavior that is becoming commonplace. The fact is that more guys are prepared to be exploited in other ways, such as driving a girl and her friends to an onsen resort, or buying essential equipment for art classes.
Nevertheless, Kahanshin wants people to know that, far from being a pack of losers, Goofy Guys seem to know how to give a girl a good day out. “They have the cash, they know who is boss, and they know that she doesn’t care for him one little bit. The main thing is that they don’t go into it assuming that they’ll be pumping their date on the castle balcony at fireworks time. That’s an amateur move, right there. It just makes everything more awkward than it needs to be.”
“I really thought it was the fast track route to the center of operations. It was my intention to provide English lessons at a competitive rate at times suitable to them. Flexibility was something that I emphasized,” reflects Jacksie McQueef. “At the very least, it would give me a realistic shot, rather than just going to every handshake event.”
As the 54 year old New Yorker drains his third Strong Zero whilst loitering in a notorious pick-up strip close to Shinjuku Station’s South Exit, he reveals more about his unsuccessful strategy of offering his services as an English Tutor to ravishable trio, Perfume.
“Most guys just want to get into Nocchi’s knickers, but I was prepared to give Kashiyuka a serve too, albeit only to increase my stock value. It was my hope that, by doing one of them, I’d create some jealousy and sexual tensions within the group, tensions that could only be released by sharing a night of passion with me.”
It’s been said that for white men, you’re never too old in Japan, that there’ll always be a willing female to hop on board Hakujin Airlines. But as McQueef is finding out, it’s unwise to expect all those willing females to be hot and belonging to successful pop groups.
“I’ve contacted the group’s management on numerous occasions, but – and it pains me to say this – I’ve never received a reply in any way, shape, or form. I have seen their security detail expand though, so perhaps I’ve had some kind of effect. All I wanted was a demo-lesson, a chance to work my magic, and perhaps have some kind of misunderstanding resulting in light physical contact during a role-play.”
Although willing to concede defeat on the Perfume front, McQueef is refusing to throw in the towel completely, and he’s displaying the same perseverance that has led to his impressive 30 year career as an English language teacher in Tokyo.
“I’m broadening my horizons. I’m going after the women who used to be hot, but still have a little spark left. Sure, the tits are pointing south and the labia might be flapping in the breeze, but I’ll still be able to honestly say that I’ve bagged a swimsuit model, albeit one who wouldn’t be seen wearing a bikini in public these days.”
“She said she was shy. She didn’t want me to see her face during orgasm, so she took everything off but the mask. It triggered something in me, I guess. I was moving into unchartered territory, and it thrilled me.”
It’s generally agreed that most sexually adventurous men have a fetish side to them. Some go through life paying little regard to their kinky side, whereas others try to explore a little; perhaps by wearing lingerie under their business suit, or by using handcuffs in the bedroom. Western men in Tokyo tend to fall into the latter category, getting their rocks off with cosplay, binding, and randomly shoved oriental sex toys.
One man who has immersed himself in Fetish Japan is 32 year old programmer Gabriel Earnshaw, who has entered an area largely avoided by his fellow western deviants. “When I first arrived here I loved watching those weird videos where bikini models eat oranges with the juice running down their cleavage, or where they jog along the beach with their jubblies bouncing in slow motion.
“I guess things just developed from there. I’ve been through the uniform phase, then the high boots phase, and then I had an older woman frenzy,” explains the slightly rotund Texan over a martini at the impossibly cool Tickled Plum casual dining & jazz bar in Shinjuku. “Look… I am a man… of many fetishes, and flu masks are just taking their well-deserved place in the spotlight right now.
“I like to go out to places which are deep in Kanagawa and Saitama, where it`s rare to see a white guy,” says Earnshaw as he slides a Sicilian olive off the end of a toothpick. “That`s where I break the ice with the mask wearing ladies loitering around the shopping areas. Sometimes I even chat up the women wearing the shapeless ugg boots! I’ll talk to thirty women in one afternoon, and I’ll get one or two who will meet up with me later. The romances are usually fleeting though; women usually react negatively after being asked to keep a mask on during sex.”
Well meaning friends have tried to understand and support Earnshaw through what they hope is just a hiccup in his quest to find true love in Japan, but they know that they are facing an uphill battle to get him the help he needs.
Says former wingman and occasional lunch companion Sebastian de la Hunty, “I actually long for the days when he said he watched TV dramas to study Japanese, but was actually just watching to flog off over a schoolgirl or a nurse. That all seems regular now, because this guy hasn’t cracked a boner at anything without a mask for 18 months.”
“Y’know… I never asked for this. I’m not into hip hop and I’m not into ladies with tattoos, even the little flowery ones on the ankle. I have certain views about women who do that to themselves,” laments dark-skinned Englishman Gordon Ferdinand. “I kind of thought that being here in Japan, I’d be meeting up with a few stylish women who could step out in a kimono or a nice little cocktail number.
“But I’ve got to be absolutely honest and say that I’ve had it with these women with jungle fever. They just want it rough and nasty all the time. None of them want sensual, sweet and tender love, with is what I have by the truckload.”
For Ferdinand, a 41 year old civil engineering lecturer at Ushikome Industrial College, the hostile reaction to his gentle seduction techniques has been startling. “One woman was trying to shout at me and be deliberately confrontational. When I finally calmed her down and asked her what her problem was, she said she wanted to be called a bitch or a ho and get slapped around a bit, like in the movies. Frankly, I had no idea how to deal with that.
“I mean, what am I supposed to say when a woman grabs my VSOP cognac and splashes some over her breasts intentionally saying, “Come on, homey! Give it to me raw dog”? Ok, ok… on that occasion I responded how any man would respond, but I made sure to keep my liquor out of reach after that.”
The North Londoner has had an ever increasing struggle to escape being pigeonholed. Well meaning girlfriends leave grape juice in his fridge, or buy his underwear, only to select singlets instead of undershirts.
“I told that woman that my underarms needed protection, but she was too far gone into her California fantasy to listen. She bought me blue and red bandanas at the same time too.
“I really think I should have come to Tokyo ages ago, when Curtis Mayfield, Sam Cooke, and Solomon Burke were around. Back then I could have got a woman of class, not some potty-mouthed wench with a vagina that hums more than a thousand Buddhists at prayer.”
A festive season get-together in Edinburgh, Scotland, has seen a 28 year old Tokyo resident come out on top in the unofficial exotic tea contest played out by her circle of friends. Takanawa resident Fiona Nicol-Crook arrived back in Tokyo recently with many stories, but none as oft-repeated as her tea victory.
“My friend Sarah turned up with genuine Tibetan tea which she had procured in northern India, and Liz looked so smug when she made coffee using beans harvested in a rebel-controlled village in Columbia. Everyone was pretty excited to taste the flavors of areas which are still beyond the reach of evil western corporations.”
With the tea and coffee getting the afternoon off to a good start, Nicol-Crook was beginning to doubt that her macha would get her the attention that she desired (her friends’ didn’t even attempt to repeat the related Japanese words), and it wasn’t until she whipped out her mixing accessories that she began to feel confident of success. In an instant Nicol-Crook’s friends, who spend a lot of their free time stuffing about with crystals and astrology, went all gooey over her little oriental tools.
“I took up the traditional tea ceremony posture on the floor, and encouraged others to follow suit, before mixing up some tea in an aesthetically appealing way. I had six people around me, although they were literally in the palm of my hand! They quickly learnt the way of unique Japanese tea where you get the feeling of Edo, as well as having your legs ache like buggery within five minutes, creating a more spiritual and zen-like experience.
“Everyone expressed their envy of Japanese women being able to comfortably sit like that, so I felt the need to gently remind them they all had much bigger breasts (than Japanese women). My kind words put them back in good spirits. And although the leg pain went a long way to my success, deep down I think that it was the mixing that did the trick,” reflected Nicol-Crook. “Everyone wanted to have a go with that cute little whisk. In the case of the Tibetan tea and the Columbian coffee, it was just a matter of sitting around waiting for the water to boil.”
Nicol-Crook promised that when she arrived back in Japan she would send supplies of green tea, which will then sit around in Scottish pantries for a few months before being turfed.
The days when half of Spain would turn up at an airport to see Ian Ziering and his co-stars seemed decades away when the actor jetted in to Japan to promote himself and attend the opening of a store (although not in any official capacity), only to be met with blanket disinterest yesterday.
Ziering, who played the least popular regular character in the hit series Beverley Hills 90210, still managed a smile for the camera that he had passed to an airline employee in order to document his arrival.
“I’ve still got the Sharknado franchise, hard pecs and abs, and my unorthodoxly pronounced name,” explained Ziering, as he sat in garish clothes whilst sipping coffee at the most exposed table to passers-by at Harajuku’s wankiest café.
“Nobody turned up to meet me? So what! It was just a case of someone not sending a fax to the right place. I was hoping to slip through the airport quietly anyway.
“So let’s do this interview, yeah? It’s been a while since I’ve sat down with a quality journalist such as yourself. So… what do you want to know about me? How much I deadlift? What moisturizers I use? I can tell you how I prepared to get into the role of Steve Sanders, but that’ll take a while.”
Ziering then talked about himself for an hour, before leaving to pose at crowded intersections and buy “all kinds of Japanese stuff” that he doesn’t need.