|Latest outfit likely to get me in to fights at nightclubs.
||[Mar. 2nd, 2009|06:15 pm]
|||||converter - night swallows day||]|
I swear, living in Japan with its libertine atmosphere of fashion excess is spoiling me rotten. When I go back to whitey land I'll probably have to carry a real Luger around just to fend off the jackbooted stosstruppen of Enlightened Tolerance.
Hey, at least I wasn't the douchebag Aussie tourist with a big ol' swastika T-shirt on at the bar the other night. Complete with the smug assurance of one's bold, trailblazing ways that only being 21 and out of your own country for the first time in your life can give. Sorry about the quality again, I need to get someone with a real camera to help me at some point.
I swear, the random string of gibberish html code LJ's scrapbook assigned to this picture ended in the letters "ehre" by SHEER INNOCENT COINCIDENCE.
A nice young lady from Hamburg asked me if I was German once at a club...then without even needing a reply from me, corrected herself. No actual German would dress like this, she realized. We both laughed out loud.
Bundeswehr flecktarn shirt with a heavy dose of brown dye, and 1989-dated garrison cap. Man, I loves me some garrison caps. And the best part? I got it for ¥400. Adjusting for a very temporary spike in the value of the yen, that is like four of your dollars.