The future starts today...

Author: jhlucas (Page 1 of 4)

Escape…

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★ ★ ★ ★ “An entertaining read about friendship and the survival of hope, set in a vividly imagined world.” -Examiner.com

“Wonder, humor, and terrorizing fantasy creatures. A really enjoyable read, really well done!” -Writership 

Welcome to Saharizona, the “poison sands” spoken of in the forbidden Prophecy Song, where only the strange survive. Gigantulas and cowyotes, buffalopes and attactus, biker gangs and Chinese cowboys…

So when Cash and his friends set out in search of a mythical island in Calitopia, they know their chances are slim. What they don’t know is someone is following them. Something. The Red Enforcer – half man, half machine, no mercy. Determined to stop them and put an end to the Prophecy once and for all.

And as the relentless cyborg closes in, Cash is required to pit friendship against fate. But how can you choose between saving your friends or saving the future?

Check out the first book in the series, now available in paperback or e-book at Amazon! Click here to check it out…

I am a refugee from the US…

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Tucked deep inside the bag’s nether regions (OMG you saw the Trump-Pence logo, right?) is a helpful list of Spanish phrases. These will come in handy in your escape to Mexico, when you need to translate useful phrases like:

How many nutrient-cubes for this scrap metal?

Don’t laugh, you’re gonna need that. And the scrap metal. Nutrient-cubes don’t grow on trees, you know. Well, they might have once. Back when there were trees.

Let’s see what else is in here…

The Donald’s secret love…

Wrapped up in a tiny baggie was what appeared to be a necklace with a strange gold disk. But what could be inside the shiny amulet? What magical golden talisman could give me hope in the Trumpocalypse? What secrets could it—OH MY GOD!!!

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It’s the master of hopey/changey himself, Barack Obama! But what could it mean??? Having lost all hope for America’s political future, I rubbed it and made a wish… and dug deeper inside the bug-out bag…

Inside the Trump bug-out bag…

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A couple months ago, the crazy card game Cards Against Humanity announced a special collector’s edition bonus pack, aimed to help you survive the impending Trumpocalypse…

Under Trump’s America, you and your family will wander desolate highways, taking shelter in burnt-out automobiles as you escape the Red Dust. You will wish you had the tools to start fires in the terrifying night and protect yourself from roving gangs of bandits. Keep your loved ones safe for only $25.

And thus, the Donald Trump bug-out bag was born. They sold out immediately.

All 10,000 bags have sold out. When Donald Trump is elected President, you will perish in the wasteland. Sorry.

But not before my clever wife got her order in! And yesterday, when we got home from work, it was sitting on our porch, waiting for us. Everything we would need for our future life in Trump’s America.

Filled with glee and apprehension, we took it into the back yard. Because it’s not safe to open such things indoors. Knowing the CvH folks, there’s no telling what’s inside. For all we know, they could’ve drugged up a Chupacabra and stuffed it in there. So into the yard it goes…

Zipping it open slowly, the first thing on top was a small stack of small manila envelopes. Envelope #1…

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Open only in case of dire emergency? There was the electric feeling of impending doom in the air, but no, it wasn’t dire. Not yet. Proceed with caution to envelope #2…

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Currency? Exactly what constitutes currency when a blustering Oompa-Loompa takes over your country? Fearful it might contain unruly hair samples from said Oompa-Loompa, I reached for envelope #3…

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An application for Mexican residency? Had it really come to this? And would it really be recognized? Would they really let me over Trump’s wall to that mythical land of rapists and good people and what-not?

Clutching the envelopes in my trembling hands, I knew I wasn’t ready for what was inside. But I had no choice. I had to keep going…

For the full reveal, join my mailing list!

Old truck mystery…

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When I say “karma realm” do you ask “where?”
Do you know they had a university there?
And a red firetruck that ran around?
Until the college burned to the ground?

Did you see the smoke from the fire?
Ask yourself, have you been higher?
Has that truck passed to a higher plane?
Like a firefly in the pouring rain?

All these questions and endless more
Lie scattered on the forest floor.
So judge the fireman if you must,
While his valiant truck parks in dust.

But know one day your emergency call
On sacred karmic ears may fall,
And the truck they send from other realms
Is rusting out among the elms.

So long, and thanks for all the fish…

Sayonara, Tokyo, I’ll miss your Blade Runner views…

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Your bizarre advertising…

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Your determination to fit everything in…

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Your constant battle between order & chaos…

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The way you get around…

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Your almost indecipherable offerings…

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Your constant energy, 24-7-365…

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The way you always try to make me happy…

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Your subtle sense of humor…

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Your many bridges…

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And, of course, your general overwhelmingness….

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As I write this from my hotel room, I just want to thank you for all the good times…

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So long, Tokyo. I’ll be back one day, but until then… sayonara!

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Weirdest experience in Tokyo: a Maid Café!

So, there’s lots of weirdness in Tokyo. Vending machines that sell everything from canned bread to cigarettes to used panties. “Capsule hotels” where you sleep in a glorified coffin. Space-age toilets everywhere, some that even talk to you. There’s even a book store that sells one book. Yep, just one book.

But the weirdest thing I experienced was a Maid Café. What the heck is that, you ask? Well, it’s where young ladies dress like maids and act like children and serve you strange things in bizarre ways.

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Let me break that down… let’s say you and your friends are walking down the street in Akihabara, minding your own touristy business, and this happens…

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An invitation to a café with coffee and drinks? Well, sure, we could all use a tasty beverage. So the four of you go in. Up five escalators. And you’re here…

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When you first go in, one of the maids walks up to greet your party. She calls the men “master” and the women “princess.” She hands you a menu which describes the food, drinks, games, services, and rules…

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Yes, “It is not allowed to take photos on maids…” I think they mean of the maids, but you never know. And “body touch is prohibited,” as is asking the maids for any personal information. So right away you realize, it’s not your usual coffee shop. I had to steal some of these pics off the interwebs. You’re cool with that, right? You perv.

Anyway, your maid leads you into the inner sanctum: a large room with a small stage in front of a counter/bar, with booths in the back. She sits your party in a booth and begins doing weird hand-jive that she calls “magic”…

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It’s so pink and cute in there you think, “hey, I might just barf!” But she explains the menu. Coffee drinks, boozy drinks, sugary desserts, omelettes…omelettes, WTF? Do people actually eat breakfast here? Terrified and yet oddly drawn to the “magic,” you and your giggling friends place your order.

When your coffee arrives, your maid whips out a squeeze bottle and asks, “Master, what would you like me to draw?” Well duh, an octopus, of course…

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She calls the octopus a taco. Okay. One of your friends gets a boozy drink. “Are you ready, princess?” the maid asks. Ready for what? Then she leads you in a “magic spell” that is a lot of cute rhyming gibberish. Yes, four grown-ass adults sit there singing a nonsense song with some girl dressed like a cartoon maid.

After you’re done drinking however much you can take of what can best be described as liquid sugar, you’re called up to the stage for your souvenir photo…

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Then they issue you and your friends a “Master card” (get it?) with your name in Kanji… and, of course, a bunch of cutesy hearts…

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Then you run screaming into the streets of Tokyo. You know, to burn off the sugar. And the cuteness. Oh god, the cuteness!

If that’s not weird enough for you, there’s a toy designer who made a kinky little doll and took it to a maid café for a photoshoot. He walks you through his whole fetish-doll-in-fetish-café experience here. And the weirdest thing is… in Tokyo, nobody considers that weird.

Sexy-time shops & other Tokyo weirdness

Definitely NOT taking my kids to “Fun Assy Island” Kiddy Land

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Crazy about condoms? Welcome to Condomania

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One thing that won’t be allowed through customs: Forbidden Fruit.

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Trump House, only a little less fancy than his other joints…

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Are they talking to me? Café de F.O.B

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Lazy Hazy Planet pretty much says it all…

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Can you hear it? Listen Flavor!

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Hungry? How about World Breakfast All Day

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Got GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome)? Try 246 Guitars

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Which of those cartoon characters is Angus? ACDC Rag

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If you want to eat in a basement, Tabasa might be just the place…

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Apparently my brother owns a seafood place here… Luke’s Lobster

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Private Spoons Club! No public spoons allowed!

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This one was actually named by an Anglo… Anglomania

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Ya think Woolrich has a thing for plaid?

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I don’t know what this says… maybe “Recycled Drinks”?

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Lost In Translation… in a Little Red Corvette

Couldn’t resist watching “Lost In Translation” on the way to Tokyo. Who can forget that classic Bill Murray moment, trying to “close his face”?

“For relaxing times, make it Suntory time.”

Here’s the one that the bartender recommended for proper face-closing… the dangerously smooth Hakushu

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Remember the scene where Bill & Scarlett go to the strip club? Thank you!

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Funny thing is, the strip club was one of the few sets in the movie — it’s actually an expensive boutique called APC

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But the real highlight was going to the Tokyo Park Hyatt where all those hotel scenes were filmed, and getting a drink (or three) in the New York Bar & Grill. I knew it was going to get weird when I saw the brass dog-heads hanging in the elevator…

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The bar is 52 floors up… and what a view…

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The view inside wasn’t bad either…

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Although it made us a little fuzzy…

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“You close your face when you’re talking to me!” We found a karaoke bar, so… nope!

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I did “Little Red Corvette” with mad love for Prince, because that morning the newspaper under my hotel room door told me he was gone…

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Such a tragic loss. Life is short. Do what you can, while you can, and leave life’s stage like a legend.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to get through this thing called life. Electric word, life. It means forever and that’s a mighty long time. But I’m here to tell you, there’s something else: the afterworld.” – Prince, “Let’s Go Crazy”

Sayonara, Prince, and arigato for all the great music!

Architectural porn

Tokyo goes outward and upward forever, a brave collision of sprout and sprawl. Tiny shops hide wedged between giant skyscrapers. Architecture here is a constant barrage of new and old, sacred and profane. And there are cranes everywhere, making and remaking the city over and over again, this latest push for the 2020 Olympics. Witness the profanity!

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