DAY 3 : Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...
After dinner we were treated to foot massages by the aunt and uncle Moses. This is called reflexologly and it's believed that the entire body is mirrored on the foot. Pressure is put on a specific place and that helps the corresponding part of the body (or booty if you hit the right spot). Anyhow, the family that rubs together...
As I whice a bit from sometimes uncomfortable pressure, I notice Oki is sitting silently with his jaw open wide. Looks like it hurts a bit but like I told him, "No pain, no gain!" I'm not really sure what he's gaining really by enduring this but it was amusing to see him squirm around and try to make it through without yelping. I think a let out a "yip" or two. You may now call me butterfeet.
My non-shavenness has 'grown' into a super uncomfortable state. My options are to buy a $50 shaver which I will use once or save all the way for the first time in a couple years. I'll be back to a shadowed state in a week and no one will be the wiser. I gave in and decided to see the 8am shadow. After about 20 minutes I emerge from the bathroom where, Oki says I look 10 years younger. Reborn with a naked face. Now to match my bad haircut to look like a marine or some shit. I don't think i've been so clean cut looking in about a decade. Definately not into it but Oki's aunt likes it and suggests I shave every day.
On the way to our night adventures we stop at the free Taipei Pop Festival to see the Justin Timberlake equivalent called Se7en. You'ld think phrases like "Let me hear you say, ho!" were over but no, that's not the case. They all reside here in the island of misfit phrases. "Come on! Feel the Vibration!" Didn't this end with C&C music factory?
After a small dodging of taxis & mopeds we arrive a LUXY. A two level nightclub on the 5th floor with 3 rooms of music. Lots of people to talk to IF YOU SPEAK CHINESE. Several white guys cruise the crowd looking for prey and an Indian guy in a shirt with a huge 'YELLOW FEVER' printed in a kind of Iron Maiden font. I spoke very little to the patrons but Mister Oki was working the room and making it all friendly. Again I say, thank god for Oki or I'd be one of those creepy white guys.
Honorable mention is the drunk couple doing a sort of spastic-throb-grinding-falling-down makeout against a gold leaf framed, Emmett Kelly picture. It's a version of that Norman Rockwell painting where the artist looks in the mirror and paints himself. Ummmm.... yeah.
At 5:30am I figure I'll be able to sleep in and finaly get my schedule on track!!!
As I whice a bit from sometimes uncomfortable pressure, I notice Oki is sitting silently with his jaw open wide. Looks like it hurts a bit but like I told him, "No pain, no gain!" I'm not really sure what he's gaining really by enduring this but it was amusing to see him squirm around and try to make it through without yelping. I think a let out a "yip" or two. You may now call me butterfeet.
My non-shavenness has 'grown' into a super uncomfortable state. My options are to buy a $50 shaver which I will use once or save all the way for the first time in a couple years. I'll be back to a shadowed state in a week and no one will be the wiser. I gave in and decided to see the 8am shadow. After about 20 minutes I emerge from the bathroom where, Oki says I look 10 years younger. Reborn with a naked face. Now to match my bad haircut to look like a marine or some shit. I don't think i've been so clean cut looking in about a decade. Definately not into it but Oki's aunt likes it and suggests I shave every day.
On the way to our night adventures we stop at the free Taipei Pop Festival to see the Justin Timberlake equivalent called Se7en. You'ld think phrases like "Let me hear you say, ho!" were over but no, that's not the case. They all reside here in the island of misfit phrases. "Come on! Feel the Vibration!" Didn't this end with C&C music factory?
After a small dodging of taxis & mopeds we arrive a LUXY. A two level nightclub on the 5th floor with 3 rooms of music. Lots of people to talk to IF YOU SPEAK CHINESE. Several white guys cruise the crowd looking for prey and an Indian guy in a shirt with a huge 'YELLOW FEVER' printed in a kind of Iron Maiden font. I spoke very little to the patrons but Mister Oki was working the room and making it all friendly. Again I say, thank god for Oki or I'd be one of those creepy white guys.
Honorable mention is the drunk couple doing a sort of spastic-throb-grinding-falling-down makeout against a gold leaf framed, Emmett Kelly picture. It's a version of that Norman Rockwell painting where the artist looks in the mirror and paints himself. Ummmm.... yeah.
At 5:30am I figure I'll be able to sleep in and finaly get my schedule on track!!!
posted by jason71 at 5:28 AM
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