[ezcol_2third] [/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end] WE FOUND OUR WEAKENED FOOTSTEPS AT ITS TURQUOISE COLORED DOORWAY THE official statement is, that like all other celebratory spirits who paint golden eggs on Easter, play Frank Sinatra on X'mas and wash their faces with Buffalo wings on Superbowl, we the family of forever-festivity, ate tacos on Cinco de Mayo and danced to a whirlpool of margaritas this past Sunday. [/ezcol_1third_end][ezcol_2third] [/ezcol_2third] [ezcol_1third_end] But the truth, is actually far more exciting than that. Over the past long weekend, a siege of timely but inconvenient stomach-flu had, and still is, rendering me immobile. Timely, because someone, or something, has got to make me drop this bag of cookies immediately. Inconvenient however
"A SEQUEL OF CHICK-FLICK POPCORNS
"WE ALL KNOW HIM, A PUNK PRINCE WITH A BASEBALL CAP" This story of the distortion or/rebirth of a Prince, is either going to sound savagely wrong or/wistfully nostalgic, depending on whether or not you came from an island called Taiwan in all its quiet and subordinate existence just southeast of China. You're looking at something called the wang-zi (prince) mian (noodle). The extent of its popularity outside of Taiwan is a less certain matter but yeah, we all certainly know him, the punk-looking prince with a hideous baseball cap on a bright yellow and red-striped plastic bag, with a brick of fried noodles and seasonings inside. Cup Noodles in bag-form. Except for the obvious disconnection between his look and the word "Prince", there was nothing out of the ordinary. His journey only grew remarkable at a historic moment when he, among other bugs and such, became the victim of children's relentless savagery which left him deformed. Because the thing is, wang-zi-mian was never meant to be a snack. It was meant to be cooked in boiling water like any proper instant noodle soups, as practiced in any other civilized culture with attention to rules. But somewhere back in time, a reckless kid decided to spare
"MR. DARCY, THE CLOSETED FETISH OF MODERN FEMINISTS" OK
"HAS IT BECOME OBVIOUS? I LIKE SHRIMPS" Can I rudely leave you alone with this crunchy
"I SUPERNOVA-SIZED MYSELF FOR YOU. IF THIS IS NOT LOVE
"Tonight