Hello Sluggo:

A) Oops… Hey, Last.fm…  Seen the news lately?

B) I wonder what Michael Jackson’s play count looked like before he bought the farm (but not the ranch)? I’d be willing to bet it was nowhere near 29 million.

C) Does Last.fm knows something we don’t? Is the King of Pop planning something along the lines of his former Father-in-Law, The King?

I decided the world would be a much better place if we all had some nice Spam Musubi merchandise. So, a few weeks back, I flew to San Francisco and hired a crack photographer (okay, he was actually a photographer on crack whom I met stumbling along Fillmore late one night) and headed over to May’s Coffee Shop in Japan Center’s Kintetsu Mall for our shoot. After hours of searching for the right omusubi, we finally happened upon this one, and got a few shots of it before the temptation became too much and I ate it.

Now, you can own a piece of history with these spiffy new Spam Musubi shirts and other select items. And they don’t even say “Got Spam?” on the back—just unfettered Hormellian goodness on the front. Head on over to my Spam Musubi store and get yours today!

When I first went to Japan in March 2002, I was passed on a street in Shinjuku by what I thought was some lowered, blacked-out Yakuzamobile. I was pretty blown away by the box-like styling, seemingly putting a foot in the ass of the aerodynamic turds on the road at the time. A few days later I saw another Toyota bB (this one was not so bosozoku looking) parked along Kappabashi and snapped this photo.

What goes around comes around, and after returning to the states and telling everyone about this strange Japanese car, I read that it would soon be available in the US. And as we later found, in the rather dumbed-down form of the Scion xB. Alas,the honeymoon was over, as they say.

During my second visit to Japan in November 2004, I spotted another oddball Japanese creation that set my heart aflutter yet again: The Nissan Cube. Standing before Ginza’s Wako department store one day, a Cube drove by and made the corner, just the angle for me to catch sight of the asymmetric rear window, wrapping around one side of the car like a middle finger in the wind of conventional design.

Just like the first time around, I spotted another one a few days later in Asakusa. this time, Sharon snapped a photo of me with the car, in a pose I learned many years earlier from my friend, Rodrigo Peréz Nebel: Standing next to the car as if I were unlocking the door and preparing to drive away. A photo of two starry-eyed lovers, enjoying the sheer novelty of first touch.

Time-warp forward to 2009, and we see how history repeats itself. Nissan has released the Cube in the US, but radically redesigned. My former lover is not the same—She has given way to fake tits and Botox injection. I do not recognize her. Only the rear window remains untouched, but in concept alone. Her formerly angular lines have been rounded. Me no like.

A client brought in his new Cube this week, wishing to have his advertising graphics applied. I explained to him that I first saw the Cube in Japan in ’04, and in his best all-knowing manner (after all, he did just pay good green money for this car, so he oughtta know, right?), he looked me in the eye and said:

“No, this one is new. You’re thinking of the Scion.”

I politely explained to him that Nissan was producing the Cube in Japan as far back as 1998. He looked confused, as if the local Nissan dealer hadn’t divulged the whole history to him. Or maybe he was shocked that the design was not of good old ’merican bloodlines. At any rate, when we were back inside later, I dropped the photo of myself and my former love on him. His response (like seeing his new bride happily posing with an old boyfriend): “Oh.”

Kei: “Daddy, how did you put me in Mommy’s belly?”

Me: “Uh, I just rared back and put you in there.”

Kei: “What did you use?”

Sharon: “Ahhhhhhahahah…”

Kei: “What did you use, Daddy?”

Me: “Well, I um…”

Sharon: “Uh, he used his, uhhh, his magic!”

Me: “Yeah, I used my Daddy Magic!”

Kei: “Magic?”

(I have to mention here that “magic,” as it is called in our house, is whipped cream, specifically from a can, like Redi Whip. That was not the magic we were referring to.)

Sharon (laughing hysterically at this point): Hahahaha yeah, “Daddy Magic!” Hahahaha!

Kei: “Did you use your magic wand? Like my magic wand??”

Me: “Well, kind of, but, no, not really like yours…”

Kei: “Where is it? Where do you keep it?”

Me (Worried about painting myself into a corner): “I put it away, honey… I put it away…”

Sharon: “Hohohooooheeehaaaa…!!”

She’s three-and-a-half years old. I ain’t having that talk yet.

I haven’t figured out if God-Biscuit is swooping down to save the people of India or if he just likes a good curry. Anyone?

My dad left his Airport on and receives dialogs asking if he wants to join a couple of open wireless networks. One is called “mindy” and the other is called “nastyniggasnetwork.”

I can’t help but be reminded of a certain frequently-quoted-by-white-folks black comedian’s comment: “Niggas love to keep it real… Real dumb.”

To make a very long story short, I know a guy who has recently become homeless. He has a group of friends who have been doing all they can to help him, but because of many personal issues, it is now on his shoulders to pull himself up, and he has entered a program to facilitate this.

That being said, we exchange text messages from time to time which can range from hilarious to downright scary. Here are a few choice examples, presented without explanation as I have received them. Make of them what you will. References to his program and location have been changed to protect his identity.

I am now being inducted into *** on Drs orders

Good squalor Fartjeans

Apd crack killah wassup

I stank erected

I got a rash & u dont want any

Celeb lookalikes @ *** : tom hanks. Stalin. Avery Schreiber. Chas Bronson. Wm Finley. Sam Jackson. Steven Speilberg. J Leguizamo

Bruce willis. The meatball from aqua teen hunger kids with a body. Andre the giant. Aiden brophy. De niro as scarface. Vannessa williams?

Tom baker. Johnny legend. David carradine.

John turturro. Paul mooney. Jimmy dean. Lou gosset jr. Al sharpton. Art carney. Bobby orlando.

Gary sinese. Herbert lom. Jay from Clerks.

Conan obrien. Levar burton.

G-zuz!

Best ho-made tshirt of the morning: ‘i dont bite just!!! hungry’.

*** is wireless. If-when i get an indoor locker i need my laptop here.

Yeah there’s a bro here who blames me 4 ALL his problems. More on that later.

EMS is here - the guy 2 bunks down is dying. Full blown HIV

Good news- the guy that appeared to have died last night made it to the hospital on time & is doing better

I’m at the clinic - constant interruptions but @ least i’m being seen. Hour behind as usual. Man the shit i have seen lately…

I have been shuffled around so much i’m not certain which msgs made it 2 u

Saw a guy shit on ***** street in the bright sunny traffic. A big dark fat turd in 2 chunks.

I have made a couple friends- there really are some decent struggling ppl there.

I have met some incredibly cool black folks & some real definitive moronic shit-ass niggers. Being homeless illuminates pain like LSD

I’m in the *** prog & that is going 2 save my ass provided i work hard @ it, like 2day.

4.75 hours wait for 6 minutes of doctor. These poor bastids are clearly not in it for the money

Crazy, truely scary shit.

Aside from the requisite 24-7 hustle there are a few noteworthy to be avoided @ all costs. I shall elaborate in person.

Bingo. The money some of these fools waste on crack, weed & cigs could house & feed them independently

Possibly more later…