If you have posted on SAoVQ you might as well consider yourself in the pants of any girl on the planet.

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Well, never mind all that, >>1. This has nothing to do with this thread, but would you just listen to me for a little bit? See, I went to the local Yoshinoya today. Right. Yoshinoya. And the damn place was packed so full of people, I couldn't even find a seat. So I looked around a bit, and I found a sign that said "150 yen off". What the hell is wrong with you people? Are you idiots or something? Any other day you wouldn't even think of going to Yoshinoya, but if it's 150 yen off, you all flock in here? It's just 150 fucking yen! 150 yen! And you're bringing the kids too. Look at that, a family of four going to Yoshinoya. Con-fucking-gratulations. And now the guy's going, "All right! Daddy's going to order the extra-large!" Shit, I can't watch any more of this.

Yoshinoya should be fucking brutal. Two guys sit facing each other across a U-shaped table, and you never quite know if they'll suddenly just start a fight right there. It's stab-or-be-stabbed, and that's what so damn great about the place. Women and kids should stay the fuck away.

Well, I finally found a seat, but then the guy next to me goes, "I'll have a large bowl with extra gravy!". So now I'm pissed off again. Who the fuck orders extra gravy these days? Why are you looking so goddamn proud when you say that? I was gonna ask you, are you really going to fucking eat all that gravy? I wanted to fucking interrogate you. For about a fucking hour. You know what? I think you just wanted to say "extra gravy".

Now, take it from the Yoshinoya veteran. The latest thing among the Yoshinoya pros is this: Extra green onions. That's the ticket. A large bowl with extra onions, and egg. This is what someone who knows his shit orders. They put in more onions, and less meat. A large bowl with the raw egg, that's really fucking awesome. Now, you should know, if you keep ordering this, there's a risk employees might write you up. This really is a double-edged sword. I really can't recommend this for amateurs.

And you, >>1, well, you should really just stick to today's special.

When I was about nine, I had recently gotten a Nintendo Entertainment System from a garage sale down the road, the first gaming system I ever had. One game that I bought was Super Mario Brothers 3, the final chapter of the widely-acclaimed SMB trilogy, which like in the original Super Mario Brothers consisted of Mario/Luigi chasing after Princess Toadstool (whose name has since been bastardized to 'Peach'). Back on topic though; so I had advanced to World 2, "Desert Land" and I was moving along rather smoothly, in the back of my mind knowing that at some point the levels would start to get more difficult; I soon noticed a tile, one unlike the other tiles (Toad houses, numbered tiles, etc). It appeared to be some cross-hybrid of flowing diarrhea and sand, which caught my attention. I navigated my way to the tile, and hit the A button and was warped to what appeared to be a normal level; there even was a happy sunshine in the top left corner! As I side-scrolled my way through the level, the fucking sun decided to go apeshit and sodomize me repeatedly until I finally broke down in tears, throwing my controller at the ground screaming for my mom. That fucking bastard.

And no, this is not copy pasta.

We are >>1's unused brain parts. We're sorry that >>1 totally missed the point of this thread. We tried to warn the cut&paste lobe, but it went brazenly on, totally missing the point of the thread in its zeal to post a years-old piece of stupidity that has been totally drained of funny and is now a dried out husk of stupidity. In fact, we unused lobes suspect that the cut&paste lobe may have been trying to be ironic in posting something that was both unfunny and off-topic.
We are currently attempting to reroute bloodflow through >>1's brain so that the more intelligent parts can once again take command and make >>1 into a valuable member of society.
Wish us luck. Godspeed!

Im looking for a bento box, it cant be pinku (thats japanese for pink) or any girl color. It has to be
of 2 or more kotoba (thats japanese for 2 compartments) and has be be chibi (small) sized. And
has to be really kawaii (cute). Also It has to be about 10-20 bux. And you have to post pics of it
first (i want to make shure it's kawaii [cute]). And it would be nice if it came with matching
chopstick holder (WITH chopsticks). OH! and it CANNOT have any cartoon pictures, or be made
out of plastic. It has to be made of ceramic, or something like that. Also it would be nice if it was
made in japan. and not in china or corea (korea) or whatever. I have found a bento box similar to
the one im describing in e-bay, but it was 1 kotoba, and i dont want my gohan (rice) to touch my
other things (it can get wet and i would not like that, plus 2 compartments looks more kawaii)

The first anime I ever saw was "Revolutionary Girl Utena" the movie. I was attracted to it because it was bizarre and new. It hit me at a vulnerable time; my father and mother had just been murdered. I became obsessed with the "emptiness inside" theme of the movie, and felt that this related to my life somehow. I watched Evangelion next, and absolutely loved the depressing feeling both of these shows left me with. I am a person who loves depressions; I feel that I am at my most creative and "raw" when utterly depressed. The empty feeling these shows gave me filled me with emotions I wanted to recapture.

Like an addict seeking another hit, I kept downloading more and more programs, watching tons of shows. At one point, I had two shoeboxes full of CD-r's packed with Anime programs. I had a library of just about every show ever made. I became obsessive, but I wasn't finding that feeling that was originally there. Sure, I could recapture it with great stuff like Serial Experiments: Lain and Millenium actress, but that was only for a moment.

Eventually, I stopped watching the shows I was downloading, but just grabbed them for the sake of having them. I had to have more. I bought DVD's and didn't watch them. Gradually, over time, I felt my aesthetic become warped. What once was strange and bizarre looking character design became familiar; I sought it out. If I caught a glimpse of an anime style character in real life, I felt a rush; almost as if my hindbrain saw it before I was aware of it. I was visiting a Japanese tea Garden and saw real life schoolgirls in the familiar navy blue fuku uniforms. I was fascinated by them; I was drawn, attracted, but not in a sexual way; it blew my mind to see something in real life that I had before seen only in the abstract.

A familiar feeling came through me when I saw them. I felt the same at that moment as when I had first seen Utena, when I had first finished Evangelion. My obsession took a new direction.

I bought several sailor fuku uniforms from online retailers. J-list was too expensive and didn't sell in the size I desired. I had to have the legitimate stuff. At first it was satisfying to just look at the uniforms. I would keep them clean, iron them, and hang them up every day. The ritual was soothing to me.

Sooner or later I had to do it. I had to wear the uniforms I had treasured. I am proud to report that it took me a few months to break down, to really cross the threshold into utter depravity. After that line had been crossed, though, there was no going back. Tentatively, I started by simply wearing the uniforms around the house. I would wake up very early, before anyone could glimpse at me from outside on the street, and simply do my cleaning and cooking wearing the various uniforms I purchased. I got a matching apron. I would pretend I was getting ready for Japanese High school.

Soon, though, wearing the uniform in private was not enough. I purchased a duster trenchcoat and began walking through town wearing my outfit. Nobody knew, and this made me comfortable. But, again, this soon became insufficient to satisfy my obsession.

I began stalking this girl I knew, Sarah. I checked out her routines; when she left for work, when she got back, what time she went to bed. At first I furtively ventured into her place with my uniform under my trench coat while she was away. I knew where her spare key was because I had helped her move earlier. Speaking of this, I'm a pretty beefy guy. I weigh around 240-260 pounds, but I'm not that tall. A great friend to have if you need to move.

Anyway, gradually, I became more comfortable in her apartment. I started doing stuff like rolling around in her bed, stealing her underwear and putting it in little plastic bags, soforth. As you would expect, I became more and more comfortable doing this, and crossed a line. She came home unexpectedly one day, early from work. Panicked, I hid under the bed in my uniform. Immediately, as she came through the door, she spotted my trench coat. Lying under her bed, the sound of my heavy breathing seemed a thousand times louder than it actually was. I could hear her rooting through the trench coat, and could hear the wrinkling of celophane as she found my empty plastic bags. Thank god they didn't yet have her used underwear in them.

I put my sweaty, meaty hands together and prayed.

I heard her walking around the apartment. Thankfully, she didn't bring anyone with her. My mind was flashing; the excitement had triggered my epilepsy. Suddenly, I was barraged with memories from my first anime program, revolutionary girl utena. I heard her walking around some more, and then sit down on the bed. I saw her clothes come off and hit the floor in front of me. During this time I was controlling myself and having a minor epileptic fit. I could see transformation sequences from anime programs I had watched. It was all coming together; the near hallucinations, the girl in the bed above me, and most of all, my sweaty fuku uniform.

She approached the bathroom and got into the shower. She turned on the water. I was convinced that this was the one moment I had been searching for. This was my chance to cross over into the other world described in Utena; the fabric of reality was thin. I could taste it. In many of my anime programs I had seen the seemingly normal characters, like me, enter into a world of magic and joy.

I rolled out from under the bed and bounded into the bathroom. She saw my large form approaching through the glass of the shower and started screaming. I was having epileptic flashes; the screaming sounded just like "KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" I was having trouble walking, my steps staggered. I couldn't feel the floor. My meaty hands slammed the shower door open, but she sprayed me with a jet of water. The water triggered another fit and I seized, falling into the bath. She tripped and fell on top of me. As she was screaming and my blood filled the bath, it swirled around reality, and intermingled in my mind. Her screams, the blood, my sweat, the uniform, Japan, schoolgirls, magic, tragedy, terror, and hope all become one to me. For one moment, I could taste it. The anime reality. It was here, like a precious jewel perched between my meaty, sweaty pectorals. And then, gone.

SO yeah I like anime.