Musings of a Drunken Monk

In follow-up to my previous story I Think I'm Turning Japanese, I think it's time to write about how I will never ever ever be very Japanese. Current (and some permanent) indications:

• I will never, repeat, never prefer a squat toilet over a western toilet, provided that said western toilet is not covered in poop.
• I still can't sit on my knees or cross-legged for longer than 5 minutes without causing myself severe pain. If you want to see what Justin will look like as an old man, just watch him try to get up after sitting for a half hour in a Ramen shop. Ohhhh my baaack.
• I despise Japanese consumer practices. "Shouganai" (It can't be helped) is most certainly not good enough if I bought something that sucks and I want to return it. Jesus, what kind of capitalists are you people, anyway?
• I equally despise Japanese television. It doesn't even qualify as "entertainment" in my book.
• I have not learned to appreciate the fine subtleties of Japanese beer. For instance, I cannot understand why something that tastes more flavorful than Bud Light (but in a bad way) is considered good.
• I need a Japanese person to translate for me ... when I'm speaking Japanese.
• I don't, and never will, understand rape/bondage fantasy. Nor do I have the overwhelming (or any at all) urge to steal panties hung out in the laundry.
• I am well aware that not every man, woman, and child in the US owns a gun. I am also aware that a foray into New York City does not necessarily equate to a death sentence.
• I can easily recognize who, in the foreigner population, is butt ugly. Very attractive Japanese women are apparently the least gifted with this "skill."

That's it for now. Both of these lists, however, have quite the potential for mass expansion ... especially since I've already thought up additions for each.