January 20th, 2002. A night out.

After work today, I went to Shibuya for dinner. I met Hinnie and M there and M gave us some green tea Pocky. It tasted a lot like that green tea ice cream you get in Japanese restaurants back home (oddly enough, I've never had it here). I gave them strawberry chocolates and we headed off to find a place to eat. As we were crossing the Hachiko Intersection, I noticed a man in walking toward us. He was wearing a normal bomber style ski jacket up top, but as I looked down toward his feet, I noticed that he was wearing a Budweiser dress, pantyhose and cream coloured pumps. I nudged Hinnie and we both fumbled for our cameras, but to no avail. The Budman was lost in the crowd.

This is a photo of M and Hinnie at the izikaiya we ended up going to that night. It was the first time either of us had seen Hinnie since before the Christmas break, and we were anxious to hear about how she spent her time. In turn, M and I told her about our respective trips back home to Toronto.

We ordered a ton of food and sat there for a few hours, just talking. One of the dishes (M's choice) was natto, which is some sort of rotten soy bean or something. Whatever it was, it was vile. It tasted, well, rotten. But, it's supposed to be really good for you. What I'm wondering is how something that tastes like Death's sweat sock is supposed to be good for your health?