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Saturday, April 9, 2016

Still Kindda Kinki

Japan's Kinki University has changed its name to avoid people chuckling at it like you are right now.

Earlier this month, with the onset of the school year, the school has changed its name to Kindai University, which is a mashup of the old school Japanese name of Kinki Daigatsu.

Daigatsu is the Japanese term for 'university', while Kinki… it's got nothing to do with tickling a chicken with a feather duster.

So now... it's actually Kinki University University... university repeated... which I'm sure some of you have done. 

According to the university, “Kinki” derives from “Kinai,” which referred to a large administrative district in western Japan dating back to the 7th century, roughly corresponding to parts of the current Nara, Kyoto, Osaka and Hyogo prefectures.

Ergo, and I use that word incorrectly, Kinki means “the capital and surrounding areas.”

When I first landed in Japan, walking through the lobby of the Keio Plaza Hotel in Tokyo after a brief jaunt around the block by myself, discovering that Japan was going to be quite frightening to me, a voice from behind me and to the left cut through the hum of the evening gathered crowd of excited foreigners.

We were just foreigners then. Not gaijin.

"Hey!"

I must have been lost in my otherwise dark thoughts to not have noticed her cuteness when I walked past her, but her sparkling brown eyes, bright white teeth and luscious lips immediately captured my attention as I heeded her "hey".

The next thing I noticed was that she had big boobs, looked kindda Japanese, had a crutch and a busted foot or something. Oh yeah… and she was actually looking at and smiling at me. Still.

Man… Japan is going to be great, I thought to myself.

To be honest… I like to think I think like that, but I was used to not getting anywhere with women - especially hot ones like this one - so I didn't think perverse horny thoughts that made me rise up to the occasion. Who does that? Even as a virgin, as I was then, I didn't get hard when the wind blowed.

Kristine and I hit it off like old friends, not like husband and wife, because where's the fun in that.

She and I are mentally built in a similar fashion. I think we each like to look out for others at the expense of ourselves.

Still, when she pulled me back as I looked, and crossed the street—whoops, they drive on the other side of the road… I should have looked the other way—she saved my life. So… blame Kristine every time there's a blog that irks you.

Me… I made sure she and I and the other 10 people we led on a walk across Tokyo kept pace with her wonky foot.

She knew I was an all right guy when I wondered how hairy her leg was under that cast - the rest of it looked pretty silky smooth to my eyes. And I knew she was alright when she laughed and said it was probably something that was going to scare the Japanese doctor who wasn't so used to hairy gaijin.

Gaijin… Kristine was the first person to use the term gaijin in front of me in Japan - though not as something negative.

Oh yeah… despite Kristine (and myself) only just having arrived in Japan mere hours earlier, she had taken it upon herself to organize an excursion for other newcomers in her prefecture (province) to see what Tokyo was all about.

Why the heck she asked me to join her I didn't know… though I would suspect that was one reason why I was still a virgin at that time and for a few weeks longer. Oblivious.

After a long walk in which we ended up outside Tokyo (there were no neon lights!!!), and were led back to our hotel by a wandering Japanese business man that took himself more than 40 minutes out of his way (luckily I had a book of matches with the hotel name on it , or we were really going to be screwed. And not in the good, tie up, spanky way.

Anyhow…  back at the hotel, we arrived back after a few hours out in the stupidly humid Japanese night air.

I was sweaty, and I believe Kristine mentioned something about boob sweat, which I hadn't heard about, but not had quite a magnificent picture painted for me. Did I mention that Kristine is a tiny woman with a cuppeth that runneth over?

She perched me down on a lobby couch, and found the sign she had previously made up to attract her prefecture mates.

She had me sit down on a lobby couch... sweaty, exhausted and holding up the 10-inch by six inch sign that said "Kinki".

I wish I could show you the photo - it may have been lost in the fire I had a few years back... but my smile... I only looked like I just had sex.

I'll cut ahead to 2014 - the last time I talked to Kristine. No, we did not sleep together, but she said she and I should have.

While I can't change the past (yet), just knowing that someone like her would have allowed me to spank her with a PVC-wearing blindfolded chicken, is good enough. I can hear her now… "That'll do pig. That'll do."

A few weeks later, when I told Kristine that I had been a virgin when I met her, she said she kindda figured, as she said I wasn't picking up on any of the signals she had blown my way.

In my defense, I did not think anyone would be coming to Japan to have sex with a another foreigner - at least not on the first night.

Stupid me… I was sliding into 3rd base the next night with Ashley.

Me, gaijin.

Anyhow… Kristine was going to stay the next three years in the Kinki part of Japan, while I was going to the Kansai part… some 500 kilometers away.

Ah me... there, but for the price of a two-way shinkansen ticket, would have been some pretty kinki times of higher education.

Kristine, baby, since it was you who took the photo... could you spare a copy? 

Bansai,
Andrew "Just tell me what you want" Joseph

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