Dear Japan...

Attention to My Family and Friends of Japanese Descent,

While I in no shape or form blame you personally for Dec. 7, 1941, you have to admit that sneak attacking a sleepy little Hawaiian Island on a SUNDAY MORNING no less, was pretty fucked up.  Now I know that none of you have served in the Imperial Japanese Navy (except maybe for Julie's uncle Kazuhiro, that guy just reeks of Kamikaze), however the deed was done and it's time we address the elephant in the kimono so to speak.

Sunday Morning.  I mean WTF?  That's like sneak punching a retard while he's taking a piss.  Ok, all's fair in love and war and all of that shit, but really?  All I know is I better not hear any more fucking whining about that whole Atomic bomb thing.  At least we waited till a decent fucking hour...

But I digress.  In the spirit of moving forward and healing old wounds,  I am requesting, nay demanding, reparations for suffering and loss of sleep on behalf of my ancestors.  In fact, as an American and a Hawaiian, I should get double, you shithooks.  Please submit said reparations in the form of beer, Jack Daniels, or straight cash homey, by close of business today.  Only then can we move on and be a shining example of love and cooperation to the rest of the world, you back punching sons of bitches...

Peace Be With You.

Coca Cola Flavored Kit Kats and other Asian Treasures...

Growing up in Hawaii meant exposure to many different cultures and their traditions.  Other than Hawaiian, by far the most predominant cultural influences are Asian in origin.  I grew up following the adventures of Japanese super heroes.  While most of you were playing Superman, Batman, or Spider Man, my friends and I were posing as Kikaida (pictured below), Kamen Rider V3, and Rainbow Man (a lot less gayer than it sounds, though come to think of it he did cry a lot. What the hell did I know? I was 8).  Japanese heroes, before all of this freaky manga crap the kids are in to now, were what kids in Hawaii aspired to be, regardless of ethnic origin.