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Friday, January 13, 2012

You Could Be Mine

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One of the annoying truths about being me is that I am a happy-go-lucky person. At least I am now in 1991. I'm Teflon, baby. Nothing sticks to me. Nothing what so ever.

Except for women.

And I don't mean that in a sexual manner... although...

Women have been my one weakness. Always have been. Perhaps I want what I want too much and women can smell desperation. But, if that were the case, women would smell desperation oozing from every single heterosexual man on the planet.

Desperation breeds tiny monsters. I came up with that saying about 11 years earlier back in 1980 when I was around 16.

I was a quiet and very shy person around everyone when I was 16 - King of the Nerds. That was me. I collected comic books, played Dungeons & Dragons ( I was usually a cleric - a fighting priest of chaotic neutral demeanor), played the accordion, loved Star Trek, read Fantasy and Sci-Fi books voraciously, watched cartoons and was a virgin. D'uh. The only sport I played then was soccer - and I was pretty damn good, but I loved all other sports, so there was hope for me yet. I also had a large purloined porno magazine collection.

I reinvented myself as a 17-year-old when I grew a foot taller. I became an aggressive asshole. I carried a pocket knife and may have used it once to fend off someone who spewed blood all over me one New Year's Eve. I stuck him in the leg after being knocked to the ground. That was a reputation made-to-order for the freshly abdicated King. Arrogant with any reason to be. Hey... I was full of anger at being treated like I didn't matter. That phase lasted until I was about 24.

Then I reinvented myself again. I found my middle ground. Shy, but could flip at the snap of the fingers. It's also when I went to journalism school at Humber College in Toronto, and I think that helped temper my so-called ego a bit.

I should mention that no matter what.... I have always been seen as friendly and happy and always smiling and willing to go that extra mile to help out a person whether a friend or a stranger. 

When I was nearly 26 and came to Japan (though I had to leave my porno and still growing comic collection behind), when I re-invented myself yet again. Being a bit wiser, I kept the best of everything I had previously and got rid of that infernal shyness and that assholeness. And that's when women not stuck to a porno magazine became real to me.

Of course, it actually helped that the women in Japan helped me get over said shyness. I finally lost my virginity a few months shy of 27 after less than a month in the country - and 14 months after that - despite being faithful to my girlfriend, I slept with 11 more women. Hey... my girlfriend kept breaking up with me. Thank goodness.

But here's the kicker. Not once did I ask any of them out. I was asked out by them. Canadians. Americans. Aussies. Kiwis (Kiwis - why does New Zealand give their people the nickname 'kiwi', have a fruit called a kiwi and a bird called a kiwi - does kiwi mean something like "I have no other word to describe a person, animal and fruit'?), and of course, the Japanese.

So... did I really re-invent myself or did I suddenly become someone else when I landed in this country? The King is dead! Long live the King! I played baseball and soccer, knew everything about sports a fan should know...and now I was out-going... but was I merely an introvert pretending to be an extrovert?

Or maybe people are just more at ease with a guy who is sorta intelligent, charming, witty, tall, very dark and extremely handsome. Oh, and NOT an ego-maniac. Yeah... that's probably it.

Of course... if I was to fly forward some 20-years into the future and examine my 'good fortune' with the women with a discerning eye, I might have noticed at least one common denominator with all of the women I had slept with.

Sure... young, female, cute/beautiful or smokin' hot... intelligent to be sure. I have always preferred my women to be as smart or smarter than me - why would I want someone I know is not as smart as my near-genius self? Sorry... ego! Actually, it's not ego! Everybody else on this blue marble might look at me and say I have an ego, but personally, I look at it as self-confidence.

Still... I have never asked anyone out here in Japan.

So... what is that one common denominator in the women who have slept with me in Japan? God help me, but I think everyone of them is flawed emotionally in some way, shape or form.

Carry your baggage for you ma'am?

So what does that make me? Desperate, I suppose. Horny and desperate... and at last I have found the way to alleviate my problems while allowing myself to be taken advantage of by women.

Actually... it's not as bad as all that. Sure the foreign guys are all trying to score with Japanese women. That's a given. Foreign women don't usually go for the Japanese guys here... it's either a size thing, or it's because the majority of the Japanese men are sexist pigs.

Uh... actually... all heterosexual men are sexist pigs to some degree. Some of us just have the brains to recognize that, and thus can minimize the damage (by being cute - me!) or can find a way to exploit it (by being a player - not me!).

So... the foreign women are desperate for company... and I'm not hooked on just Japanese women. In fact... I've never given a crap about skin color or hair color, religion, size, country of origin. To me... women are women... none of whom would sleep with me back in Toronto... but here in Japan? Jackpot!

Desperation breeds tiny monsters. See? You thought I was talking about myself before, didn't you? Nope... I was talking about the female foreign contingent of Japan.

Of course... it doesn't explain the few Japanese women I have slept with. Perhaps alcohol was a factor.

But... that still doesn't explain Junko.

Junko is at my place right now. She used to stalk me.... wait until everyone would leave me alone, and then jump me in my apartment for sex. Hot, steaming, spank that ass, wet and wild sex that would go on for hours and hours leaving me dehydrated and sleep deprived, night after night.

I always knew I was good at sex... it was all those years of practice!

If it sounds like I am bragging, it's because I am. Self-confidence. I think.

Junko is built like a swimsuit model. Tall, slender, good curves, sexy face, apple blossom scented shampoo, long straight black hair past her shoulder blades all with an angelic face that belies the sex-drive of mighty Beelzebabe herself. Junko is the devil in disguise.

She is a university student down in Utsunomiya studying to be an English teacher - I met her at one of my junior high schools where I team-teach when she came up here for a one-week training session. She was supposed to go back to school after a week, but for seven nights of sheet-soaking fun and frivolity it turned into three or four weeks where she essentially forgot to go back to university and followed me everywhere (she was always in hiding), waiting until I was alone back in my apartment before banging a gong and getting it on (pushing the doorbell and the stripping before I could close the door).

We never went out anywhere except to do it once on my western balcony. Never again - as she is loud and likes to scream my name. I didn't mind that, but I didn't want to bother the neighbors in my apartment or those in the houses across the street.

While I was eventually forced to have her kidnapped (all true) and sent back to her parent's home for some treatment or whatever it was that they did to her (really, I didn't sleep for weeks!), I came across her again about a month later on a trip to her school for some JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme event about blah-blah-blah.

After ditching the conference and screwing our brains out in an empty classroom, she casually told me she had a boyfriend, so she couldn't see me as often as she had before.

Hallelujah! Or, was that disappointment? I had just helped her cheat on her boyfriend...but it's okay because I didn't know she had a boyfriend.

But when she pushed me aside to continue with her life as a student and girlfriend to someone else... I knew she was better. emotionally. She's come over to Ohtawara-shi twice in the past couple of months - this evening being the second time. Okay... now I know she still has a boyfriend and I don't care. That's okay, isn't it? I'm not cheating... she is.

The sex is fantastic as usual for its unusualness. I should write a manual.

But if Junko is not in stalker mode... then she's fine, right? 
 
Right. I want her for my girlfriend.

I'm tired of all this secret-girlfriend crap. Can't we just be a couple and actually go out in public as such for once?

Do I dare tell her that?

Now?

We just had sex... but I'm afraid the blood isn't back up to the top brain yet. It's still pumping blood to my other thinking device.

Sweating profusely and gasping for breath, I partially untie her, grab a hold of a breast and her butt and pull her closer to my slick hairy torso and say:

"Junko... we have to talk..."

Somewhere timing is everything,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Guns N' Roses and was filmed in Tokyo at the Tokyo Dome in 1992. And... just so you know... I did see this show:

5 comments:

  1. Andrew,
    I thought so. To tell the truth... I knew a girl just like Junko. Her name was Emiko. She did all sorts of things too. I didn't know if I loved her or not and sometimes thought she might be dangerous crazy... And other times, just a petite girl (with an insane streak that came out sometimes).
    I hope Emiko and Junko are fine, happy, married and have children who are healthy and happy too.
    ....Just my rambling thoughts after I read this.

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  2. Oh, and I don't mean that I hope they are married to each other....

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  3. Bwa! Ha! Ha! Come to think of it, you're right! Now wouldn't that be weird!!!!

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  4. To be perfectly honest, I wish nothing but the best to all the girls I loved before. Why shouldn't someone be happy?

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