David Aaron: The Man Behind the Legend

This post is an extended shout-out to my dear friend David, one of the last of us intrepid AKPers to remain in Kyoto.

SHOUT! SHOUT OUT!

David is like a beautiful butterfly, fluttery and mysterious from afar, strange, eerie and with a weird curled tongue up close. He is an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in tasty breading.

He is very tall, towering above the leetle Japanese people, and his girlfriend Sujiiii is very beautiful and rocks out at karaoke hardcore.

Too bad they aren't allowed in AM/PM bathrooms anymore.

David is full of humor and light, like Gabe and Tycho smashed into one amazing living entity who punches babies and flips off kittens, because as we all know, those jerks always have it coming.

David is also secretly Rivers Cuomo, the lead singer of Weezer. I'm not sure if I've forgiven him for Maladroit yet, but maybe someday we can come to terms. I hope so. I cry about it every night.

David's host family is evil, one of his brothers is possibly gay and writes threatening notes, and his host mother has teeth like a rusted bear trap...but David endures!

David is like a light in a moldy country.

I am proud to be the koala backpack of such a zany and all-together good guy.

But he is not allowed to be with Sujiiii in any bathroom I plan on using for its intended purposes.

DAVID AARON.

Yes.

A Conspiracy of Jews

I dedicate the title of this entry, and much of its content to dear Kevin.

Kevin, I've come to some conclusions, and in looking through my pictures from these last four months, I feel that I should share with you some things that are very pertinent.

The reason you can't smile very well in pictures is because you have cancer.

Yes, Bob reminded me of it as we looked through our Sapporo adventure and saw you in your chemo-patient hat. I laughed, but only because I did not understand your pain. Through film, it becomes crystal clear.

You try to smile through your pain, you put on a brave front, but somehow it always shows. No wonder you're so pale, it's from the strain of fighting for life. I know it meant a lot for you to experience holding that fake salmon, and it is an experience that I hope you will take with you to the grave... if the chemo doesn't work out, that is. Which is, incidently, the reason you throw up so much.

So many mysteries of your life solved! Thanks to Bob, who is so vain she probably thinks this post is about her. And my super hot pictures. I'm such a brilliant photographer.

And a stupid monkeyfuck who left her camera on the plane, G-d forgive me.

And now I must get going. I have to sew Bob's hand to her face, as was ordained after the rousing viewing of "Love Actually" in which I learned that love actually is about how slutty Americans are.

And David told me the truth about Reid. And I'd better successfully sleep tonight, or there will be rocks thrown through windows, and by rocks I mean...well...rocks, I guess. I'll think of something better later.

Hello Keeboo! *wave wave wave* Wish me luck on my drive!

Hand sew to face, unf!