We were in Osaka on tour and had been traveling all night. We had arrived at 7:30 a.m. and were going to load into the club at 1p.m. the tour manager had decided IN HONOR OF PROFITS and cost saving there would be no hotel today. We would just have to kill time until the load in at 1p.m.

I was not impressed.


By this time we had been on the road continuously for 14 or 15 days and I fucking despised these people, their breathing was pissing me off. Everything about their stupid faces and insidious existence did nothing but further my hate filled fantasies of revenge and blind justice. I was suffering from the kind of irrational misanthropy that only exists between people crammed into small spaces, repeatedly, over extended periods of time. I was ready to kill puppies and eat kittens.

So... this fucking coffee shop would be my home for the next 5 hours, fine. I was going to make the best of it. I felt that a trip to the w.c. would be a welcome retreat and a way of stealing some alone time, even if it was only for 15 minutes.

Part of what makes me a good engineer is my mild obsessive behavior; a compulsive attention to details, and my obscene cleanliness. I like shit to be together and I like shit to be clean. So I obviously fucking love bidets and I was in a country obsessed with order and cleanliness... for a mildly obsessive neat-freak, pussy-hound-fuck machine like me... Japan was and is heaven.

Every shithole restaurant and dive bar had a bathroom that would put most 4 stars hotels to shame. The general eateries and normal places had bathrooms that were immaculate: Clean, open, well lit, freshly cleaned and stocked with a toilet that had heated seats, warm and cold running water and wee robots that cleaned your ass with gentle torrents and warm water and then blow dried your ass with warm air

Fuck yea baby.

These bidets were no simple affair, these bidets were the latest and greatest high tech wonders in the world of ass washing.... They had micro computers that monitored ambient air temperature and adjusted the warmth of the seat and water accordingly, they were pressure sensitive and would politely display your weight, if you so requested. They could mimic the sounds of babbling brooks and birds to hide the sounds of your body and spare you the embarrassment of someone hearing you pissing, they could monitor and display your blood sugar and salt levels by taking samples of your piss and some... some, I shit your not, some said thank you once you stood up. How is that for service? The fucking toilet says thank you, mists the room with air freshener and then flushes the low flow toilet for you when you finish. Jesus fucking Christ that is so far beyond obsessive it is breath taking it is simply.....awesome.

Japanese toilet designers I salute your dedication and service.




So far ever single bidet I had come across had either English button labels or kanji which is based on traditional Chinese characters, meaning I could read enough of either to comfortably operate the shitter. This one however had neither traditional characters nor English it had straight up Hiragana. I could not read a fucking word. I might as well have been looking at Sanskrit.


Staring at this alien script and anxious to get my bidet on, I had an entirely irrational and moronic thought. I’m a smart guy there are only 9 buttons how fucking hard can it be? It’s a fucking toilet for Christ’s sake....

I sat there staring at the control panel pretending I had some logic in my choice, eventually I got tired of being a pretentious twat, mentally admitted I no fucking clue> I threw cauti0n to the wind and pushed the big button.



Bingo bitches!!!!!!! I got it right on the first try. I sat there savoring my victory and the warm water for about 20 seconds before my mind wandered to the inevitable; how do I turn this off?



Fuck it.

I pushed the button beside the big button and was greeted with double the water pressure blasting my ass and while not entirely un-enjoyable I quickly realized that if I stood up while this thing was blasting away I would be soaked by a jet stream of water. I have done a lot of stupid shit in my life but I was not going to walk out of a bathroom in a Japanese coffee shop at 7:30 in the morning covered in water, all the while a jet stream of water is blasting the ceiling behind me.
A man has to draw a line.



So I am starting to get a little freaked out... water has been blasting my ass for about 2 minutes now. As I desperately pushed buttons and combinations of buttons. Hotter, colder harder softer pulsating oscillating but no fucking kill switch... God Damm it! In sheer desperation I raised my self just a hint to see if I could escape the torrent and jump off. No such luck it was obvious that bitch would arc and soak me....

WTF? I began thinking of ways to get out soaked get my shit and bolt but then I realized I had to pay for my coffee still and even if I could escape the restaurant I would have to suffer the taunts of the crew and band for the remainder of the tour.

My mind was racing desperately as I sat there hunched on my throne of shame, head in my hands, and it happened...the water stopped.

I looked down and realized there was no off button, once started the bidet would run a 30 sec cycle and shut itself off, however each time I pushed a button it would reset itself and start the cycle over.

I stood up cursed the Japanese for their efficiency and walked out as if nothing had happened...