日本のベーブ

Here I am, half the time not quite believing my luck, back in the land of orgasm-inducing O-toro-land.

First night only, kenna shiok’d.

This trip looks promising.


This is not cold, this is not cold, this is not cold, this is not yet cold…

Though a mere hour of walking around had been just enough to leave me looking like a flushed Rudolf with fingers that no longer felt part of my body, I insist that this is still not cold.

This cannot be cold.

Unfortunately though, my resolution to not shop this trip round seems likely to be broken. I will fucking need a bloody down jacket soon.


On a brighter note, I do have a couple of thanks to give.

For one, I am so not regretting my Ugg-ly boots. My laughing toes must be the happiest parts of my body, jeering at their northern digital relatives.

For two, I am so so glad I have a wonderful travel companion for this otherwise boring-like-hell trip.




I think I also want to take back my words.

Sometimes, I don’t really hate meetings and business trips, where all I ever do is eat, fall asleep during meetings and then eat eat eat. And especially if it’s during winter.