The What
I'll just go ahead and say it from the get-go: American culture just doesn't have as many privacy or modesty provisions built into it as Japan does.  We Americans all want attention and fame and all the bling-bling that goes with it.  We post YouTube videos documenting our morning's breakfast, personal blogs detailing sexual exploits, scandalous vacation photos, bitter gripes against our a-hole bosses, and our latest hit single played acoustic coffee house-style all in the hopes of going viral.  "Anonymous tips" just don't exist in my home country.  We want recognition, dammit!

Why?  Maybe Hollywood just pays too damn well, inflating our high-cholesterol veins with gold-encrusted American dreams.

Conversely, Japanese don't want to be in front of the camera.  They flee from the weekend camera crews filming in Ginza.  Turn on the news and half the time they're

A first-person-perspective horror short telling the story of Heckler, a psychotic killer with a thirst for cardboard and ketchup.

Like any American living in America, I wore my shoes in the house.  Shoes on the sofa, shoes on the bed, shoes in the shower, shoes in the backyard, then back in the house.  I didn't think twice about it.  Living in Japan opened my eyes.

Take your

In high school you've got jocks, geeks, stoners, prom queens, fat kids, and so on and so forth.  The working world is no different.  You've got "Chads" (the good-looking hot shots that always get their way), geeks (IT dept.), lazy overweight managers (the fat kids grown up), office queens (the hotties everyone wants to bang), pranksters, gossips, and so on and so forth.

What am I, you ask?

Why, I'm the Office Farter.  It's a pleasure to meet you.

My body (more specifically, my ass) has the