My brother enjoys attending the Anime Expo every year when it comes to Long Beach. Or maybe it just occurs in Long Beach every year… I don’t really know and I didn’t ask. What I did have to do was pick my brother up from the expo yesterday. When I arrived, he “wasn’t finished” (hopefully he wasn’t in the porn area at the time), so I decided to park my car and accompany him for the remainder of his journey. I was a little interested, but I mainly wanted to observe some of these anime fans firsthand.

My wish was granted when I saw four guys dressed as Pikachus walking to their car. I forgot that Pokemon became an anime after it confined kids to their Gameboys for 14 hours a day, spurring on the childhood obesity epidemic. That’s right, the health professionals should blame Pokemon. Maybe if Chansey wasn’t so damn hard to find…

Upon entering the convention center, my wish was then violently thrown in my face. A 30 year old man was dressed as Sailor Moon, complete with the miniskirt. Apparently he shaved his legs in an attempt to appear more feminine, but men’s thighs simply can’t be as smooth as women’s thighs. … .. …. .. ……

Now that I’ve returned from beating myself with a large wooden club for constructing that last sentence, I’ll continue this story if my concussion isn’t serious enough to hamper my writing abilities. It definitely clouded my judgment while cleaning the club, though. I used a white washcloth instead of paper towels. Now it basically looks like a damn maxi pad. …… … .. …. … .

I didn’t know my parents owned a whip, but it definitely came in handy just now. It’s true what they say about the lash, it really can teach you a lesson or two. Still, I can’t help but wonder what exactly my parents use that whip for. ……. . …. … ..

Curling irons really hurt when you turn them on and put them .. ………. … ……. ….. ..

The swelling on my shoulder has subsided, so I can move my prosthetic arm and type one key at a time now. Progress! An anime I saw at the convention, called Paranoia Agent, gave me the idea for my last self-inflicted wound. In the anime, an unidentified Japanese (I assume?) serial killer beats people with a baseball bat. He’s called “Lil slugger”. I suspect that it will end up being Ichiro. Hideki Matsui’s swing wouldn’t cause enough damage to injure anyone, and Ichiro would be able to get away quickly. Plus, the Lil Slugger wears GOLD roller skates…. an obvious allegory to the Gold Glove.

The most hilarious anime, and the only one I will have any interest in watching in the future, is called AzuManga Daioh. I probably spelled it wrong, but it really looks more like this: “#^##$*^” when spelled out with the proper characters. It’s basically the story of strange girls at a prep school. The story of two of the teachers gets thrown into the mix, too. Essentially, there’s a huge power war going on, as the P.E. teacher always feels inferior to her friend the English teacher, who probably isn’t an English teacher but is in fact a Japanese teacher since the whole thing takes place in Japan. Now that I think about it, it’s a little strange that we refer to grammar, writing, and literature as the collective noun “English”. I highly doubt that they refer to the same thing as “Japanese (##**&^)” in Japan, because they usually apply common sense and forethought to their naming processes.

Sooo, I’ve decided that I definitely do not need to attend another anime expo in my lifetime. I haven’t spoken to my brother since he inexplicably decided that I needed to know that girls constitute the primary fanbase for gay anime porn since “they think it’s cute”. After he said that, I looked him straight in the eye and said “I don’t know you”, then walked to my car and drove home. He tagged close behind though, so he was able to sneak in the backseat before I drove off.

Also, supposedly this gay anime porn is called “Yaoi”, which is pronounced “yow-ee”, another example of how the Japanese use forethought in their nomenclature.

Alright, I think the stove has heated up enough now. Three more self-mutilations should be enough to constitute a clean purge. Don’t worry about me though. I don’t have a problem, I can stop this whenever I want.