the land of the manly tofu

This country is one of few where the manliest of men eat tofu and are not ashamed. Including myself. And no one laughs when i say the word tofu, and no one calls me a hippie for fantasizing about it, or for that matter, a creep. I taught my first kid today and we spent most of the time throwing darts at flash cards, running around the room, and coloring with filthy crayons. I think he had the time of his life. Life is back to normal now. I come home, i cook dinner, i lose some precious time on this blasted ordinateur, i do some japanese studying or reading, then i crawl into my futon, drape the heavy covers over myself, and drift off into a dreamworld with soft tofu clouds and young German children made of tofu. And it doesn't change, but this doesn't bother me yet. I suppose the tedium will catch up with me and i will finally have an unwanted revelation that my life here is nearly pointless, and that it would be better to run back home. This is tempting, no doubt, but the rewards to reap here, both the intellectual and monetary ones, are too much of a pull. There are the cultural rewards too. Come to think of it, the temples in Kyoto were kind of nice. And those geishas were really darling. Yes, there are reasons to stay too, but it all just makes me appreciate Old Glory all the more, and it helps me to more fully support all of Uncle Sam's wacky international escapades. This is all making me a better American, so i should be thankful. I just wonder what the tithe tax will be when i return, and when my labor duties begin for the construction of King Bush's glorious new castle, rising high above the quaint town of Washington D.C. All hail the wise and powerful Boy-King whose signature smirk shall instill fear in the lesser peoples of the world! God bless America! And the purple mountain's majesty too, currently being drilled for oil.