| rev:text
| - I love Lee Lee for all the wrong reasons.
Like Maury Povich and shoplifting, I know I shouldn't love Lee Lee's as much as I do, but I can't help it.
I love how it organizes it's food by country of origin. By. Fucking. Country.
I have never needed to google my grocery list before shopping, but now that I've started, I can't stop. I feel like I'm learning. A super happy tasty adventure of learning every time I need to buy some fucking noodles.
Screw wal-mart. I never learn anything at wal-mart, except that the third world's largest export is Spider-Man pajamas and that little Johnny wandered away from mommy and daddy and is waiting for them at Customer Service where he's already tore into a Hershey's Bar that they will be expected to pay for.
I love how they give me a ridiculous amount of options on a choice that I shouldn't be tasked to make. Why make ramen when I can have my pick of hundreds of different kinds of noodles, none of which have I any experience making!?
Fuck it. I'm taking the Mi Chay, the imitation shrimp noodle and the cantonese egg noodle.
And at about 99 cents (give or take) a bag of exotic carbohydrate madness, I can finally live out my forty-five-minute-old dream of eating every style of Asian noodle!
Which, once you factor in that about 80 percent of my diet is piles and piles of noodles, means I will probably get to accomplish this before the end of the month.
But that's fine.
I'll just move onto batshit insane Asian snackfoods.
Like Hello Kitty chocolate cookies and fish-flavored corn chips. And dried squid!
I love that it makes the effort to stock the very same food that I am trying to get away from.
Do you really think I drove all this way from Avondale to wander around this place in a haze for an hour and pick up a bottle of mustard?
You must be out of your fucking mind.
I'm tempted to take some of these obvious knock offs of "american food" and see if its actually better their way.
Oh.
And they have a chopsticks aisle.
Okay, not a whole aisle.
It's a spoon/fork/chopstick aisle.
But half of it is chopsticks.
It's right next to the aisle with all the plates and bowls that you see at all the other Chinese and Japanese restaurants you've ever been to.
Huh. I've slurped miso out of a bowl that looked just like this one.
I could buy this bowl. And get the stuff to make miso and then I could have my own restaurant-style miso in my RESTAURANT STYLE BOWL at home!!!!111
But I won't. Because there is no atmosphere at my house and I hate eating alone.
That's why I bento.
So at least that way I can plop next to strangers on campus and eat my
fish balls and pak choy out of my plastic box (which I bought at Lee squared, thank you) I can pretend that I have lots of friends who accept me as that "quirky lunch box girl".
Fuck. I forgot what I was talking about again.
And look at all this freshly-killed fish!
See, I would pay Ichi Ban prices for any sushi made here.
Because I can determine it's fresh. Because it's still looking at me.
Who do you think you are, challenging me to a staring contest right before they killed you and put you out on the shelf?
The only problem with Lee to the second power is that it's right across the street from Pholicious.
Which means any time I would drive over there to try their restaurant, I would get sidetracked and just drive over to Pholicious.
Goddamit. This is the problem with de facto segregation.
Oh no, time to hit wikipedia again.
Why can't she just use normal words, like a normal person?
And why does she always wait until her pills wear off before she starts writing reviews?
The world may never know.
Cuz I sure as hell don't.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)
![[cxml]](/fct/images/cxml_doc.png)
![[csv]](/fct/images/csv_doc.png)
![[text]](/fct/images/ntriples_doc.png)
![[turtle]](/fct/images/n3turtle_doc.png)
![[ld+json]](/fct/images/jsonld_doc.png)
![[rdf+json]](/fct/images/json_doc.png)
![[rdf+xml]](/fct/images/xml_doc.png)
![[atom+xml]](/fct/images/atom_doc.png)
![[html]](/fct/images/html_doc.png)