Photographs from a small group of islands
As Japan boasts an absolutely massive amount of vending machines, and the vast majority of them dispense drinks, it’s perhaps not surprising that manufacturers are keen to offer customers a bite to eat as well as a beverage.
But whereas bread in a can appears quite passable, and tinned udon looks terrible but is perhaps palatable at a very peckish push, pasta is patently a foodstuff too far.
Although it does feature a folding fork, which is at least something.
Sort of.
Building regulations in Tokyo appear relatively relaxed, with construction in a constant state of flux. And, in the seemingly unsystematic cityscape, considerable amounts of concrete come across as the only recognisable requirement.
Well, except for fugu (blowfish) restaurants that is, as it would seem that in the realm of dangerous delicacies, a certain form has to be followed — namely the flaunting of fantastically sized fish.
Photographic evidence of two such restaurants in the whole of Tokyo surely attesting to this trend,
with the more ferocious looking the fugu is the better.
For those with certain fetishes or a fondness for particular forms of fashion, there are plenty of places to pick from in the Japanese capital. Â And now, it would seem, attitude is also a commodity that can be catered for, all the way from the paternal to the particularly unpleasant.
(click image for, erm, bigger bitch)
As far as gadgets go, Japan definitely doesn’t have to do without, although how indispensable some of them are is debatable to say the least.
Take the Plasma Sperm for example, a men-only machine that, as the packaging if not necessarily the product name suggests, super-sizes semen.
A clever little contraption it has to be said, boasting numerous settings and various views, all the way from the magnified, to the, erm, mega magnified.
Which, all in all creates a machine that, whether necessary or not, makes masturbation even more fun, although coupled with something equally mechanical, it could well break the mould.
Or at the very least, the manual monotony.
Many miles from the motherland it may be, but reassuringly, it has remained true to British telephone box regulations, and refuses to work.
Although luckily it looked like it has yet to be used as a lavatory after some late night lagers.