Well, what a bloody awful rabbit hole to fall into. Today was supposed to involved delivering choccies to some cycling associates in Kawasaki. But getting up and about with half an hour or so free before Mrs. Kangaeroo was due to head off to work and hanging out with the dinosaur led to messing about on the computer. Unfortunately, this opened the door to a reacquaintance with Osama, a delightful performer who made his name playing renditions of famous Western tracks mostly from the 1970s in Japanese in a style he calls 直訳ロック (chokuyaku rock, “literal translation rock.”) Didn’t take…