nothing beats The General
i was in my favorite chinese restaurant the other day. as usual, those crafty Chinese had the heat turned off, and the only thing keeping the pipes from freezing was the heat oozing through the walls of the store next door. i'm sure the neighbors luuuvvvv that.
anyway, while waiting for my General Tso's Chicken, my eyes searched the walls of the icy-cold eatery. in addition to the stack of FHM magazines by the door, i noticed a chinese calendar on the wall. this was not the traditional chinese calendar, mind you--it was half english, half chinese calendar from some food distributor. on it was a awkward collage of photos depicting the Communist Chinese view of typical American life--a hot Chinese girl, a Cape Cod style mansion, and an '80's Mercedes convertible. describing it does it no justice--it has to be seen to be understood. clearly, and as usual, the Chinese missed the mark. they got the general idea of the world's view of American lifestyle, but still funked it up royally. i wish i had a photo of it. those silly Chinese, when are they going to open the floodgates and allow it's people to see the rest of the world without "Communist Red" colored glasses?
excellent reading material available at this place
as i turned back to the counter, i laid eyes once again on the cashier--a boney chinese dude, with banana-sized lips in sore need of chapstick, wearing a grubby t-shirt and a Larry the Cable Guy hat with "GIT-R-DONE" on the front.
*sigh* another Chinese soul that has succumbed to American culture.
on a lighter note, The General was delicious.
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and in dreamier, creepier news:
i had a dream recently that i was at home with mom and one of my brothers, and lately, for some reason, i had not been able to communicate with anyone outside of my immediate family. i couldn't be seen or heard. i turned to mom and asked, "mom, am i dead?" and she began to explain the horrible truth. i was indeed dead, felled by the bullet of a criminal, and i was only visible to members of my family. i suddenly had a slow-motion flashback of our farm, on a clear and calm summer evening at dusk. i saw myself drawing my gun just as i was shot. i saw my face crashing down to the dusty driveway by the barn... and that was it. nothing more.
then i woke up.
talk about creepy. my mind ripped off "The Sixth Sense" something fierce.
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and in equally creepier, yet somehow lighter news:
the new snacker, minus buffalo sauce
i was in the drive-thru at KFC the other day while on The Job. i ordered their new Buffalo Snacker Combo. as i rolled up to the window, the clerk, which had just been so polite and professional on the intercom, saw the front fender of the patrol car, spun around to his buddies, clapped his hands, and said something i couldn't hear from outdoors, no doubt something like "dude, it's a cop!" he then spun back around to take my money and saw me glaring at him and the smile instantly disappeared from his face. when he opened the window, i asked, "you're not making special Cop Burgers, are you?" he replied, "naw, man, i wouldn't do that. i would never mess with anyone's food." bullshit, i thought. he might not, but his croanies in back might.
needless to say, i inspected my Snackers for foreign matter. luckily, Snackers are of simple construction--bun, chicken & sauce, lettuce, bun. the potato wedges appeared normal. the soda looked ok, but you never know.
other than the mental distress, the meal was delicious.
Bug the Goat has nothing to add today. neither does Ringo. or the fish. nothing.
gawd, i'm tired. leave comments.
