It’s remarkable how a Google image search for “anthony weiner twitter” produces such a rich set of visuals that tells more than enough: vanity, tears, arrogance, underpants, wife, user-generated content, hairless muscular chest, high school photo, the american flag. Of course he’s now finally heading for therapy and its inevitable political outcome, rehab. Godspeed, Mr Weiner, and thank you and Google for making our world more louche and understandable.
I am ending my photos about Tokyo Pride Parade with this odd grab bag: rainbow socks with chunky heels, an outfit somewhere between farmer and rickshaw driver, two guys in chaps and bow ties, Google’s gay robot t-shirt, and this celebrant who passed out in the heat.
A work friend emailed me today in Japanese, and silly me I plunked his email into Google Translate.
The first line reads, “”Contact your buttocks <Major Japanese Corporation>.”
In Japanese it was “<Major Japanese Corporation> 製作所ご担当者殿。” Something went very wrong with Google Translate.
My father-in-law and some friends climbed Mount Fuji last night. Recently a few hikers have died, and I heard the weather last night was poor. Fortunately, Docomo allows constant contact. Unfortunately, I used Google Translate to interpret my mother-in-law’s text message. Google Translate is incredibly BAD.
Tokyo Moe 