Sunday, June 10, 2018


After hitting 10,000 steps somewhere along the hill at Fushimi Inari, I headed back to the train station to go on to my next point of interest. One stop north was the Tofukuji Temple, a Zen Buddhist temple that was established in the 1200s. Yeah, that's not a typo. The current buildings were constructed after a fire in the 15th century, which is the 1400s, so still, SUPER OLD.

Because I have "iron boogers" and always know what direction I'm facing, I had no problem wandering from the train station about 3/4 of a mile to the temple with little to no signage (in English). Once again, anyone with any type of travel anxiety or planning compulsion would probably have freaked out, but as I'm perfectly comfortable wandering towards something that's "in this general direction" with my mental map, I had no problems. 

There's something calming about Kyoto. It wasn't nearly as small as I'd imagined it, but the old-style Japanese architecture with the dark wood paneling and white screens was all around, and it felt very peaceful. There were giant trees, and even though it was too hot and humid for this west coast girl, it was still a lovely walk. Jeans were, however, a bad choice.

Tofukuji temple was, well, epic. The buildings were very simple, but at the same time they were really magnificent and grand. It very randomly reminded me somewhat of northern California - the trees I think, and the fact that everything was made out of dark, unpainted wood. It was, as a Zen Buddhist temple should be, very zen.

THEY EVEN HAD A REAL ZEN GARDEN. You know, like those things you put on your desk with the sand...

You had to take your shoes off to walk on the wood floors inside the temple and by the zen garden, and the floorboards squeaked - intentionally. I'll explain that later when I'm at Nijo Castle. But even with crowds of people, Tofukuji temple was beautiful and incredibly calming, and left me feeling all one with nature and shit like that. I had a nice little walkabout sans shoes, then I headed back to the train station for my next stop on the rush tour of Kyoto.

I made it back to Kyoto Station, and it was finally late enough in the afternoon for me to check into my "guesthouse" and drop some of my stuff off (that had been stashed in a convenient locker at the station). It was only about 3 blocks away from the station, which was nice since everywhere I went started from there - and there was a nice view of Kyoto Tower.

<<<Kyoto Tower

My guesthouse>>>

Because I hate people, I booked the only "private room" in what is essentially a capsule hotel. I have an intense hatred of snoring, so the thought of being in a room with other people that I wasn't legally allowed to assault in the wee hours of the morning to shut them up was terrifying. I had a nice, tiny room with a door, my own AC, and a TV that I didn't turn on. After hours of walking, I immediately shut myself in my 30 square foot room and blasted the AC to try to dry the layers of sweat, and put my swollen feet up for a few minutes.

Since I was on a time crunch, I didn't get an actual nap as I would have liked -  I sat for 30 minutes and changed clothes, then it was time to head out for dinner. I took one of the 900 trains from Kyoto Station to the Gion area (which may sound familiar to anyone who read Memoirs of a Geisha) because a) it was supposed to be cute and traditional and b) there was a Sanrio store there. Priorities.

I walked another 9 billion steps along the main drag full of traditional shops selling tea, cute things, stuff made from kimono fabric, jewelry, delicious foodstuffs, Japanese candies, legit actual kimonos that cost as much as a nice apartment, and other fancy things. I found my Sanrio store, bought some cute Aggretsuko socks and a little plushie, and set out in search of sushi.

Since my main requirement for restaurants was either an English menu or recognizable photographs of food, I walked a while before I found something suitable. I went into a big department store and, as I've learned in Korea, headed for the top floor (where the food is). I was not disappointed, because I found a sweet conveyor belt sushi restaurant and only had to wait about 10 minutes for a seat at the bar. They gave me a number, and because I speak literally one single word of Japanese, I had to google how to say "66" in Japanese so I'd know when they called me. Even so, I was so obviously out of place that when the guy came out, he looked at my receipt and saw that I was the one he was looking for instead of trying to scream Japanese numbers at a foreigner. Bless him.

It. Was. Glorious. Was it better than sushi outside of Japan? Yes, yes it was. How? Well, the only way I can explain it is the way pineapple tastes in Hawaii. It's different, it's better, but I can't really explain how. So yeah. Here's a haphazard photo of the first of many delicious plates of sushi:
Plus the free matcha tea that just comes with your meal.

After dinner, my feet had grown to the size of small grapefruits and my body hated me for being awake and mobile for nearly 20 hours, so I took a quick walk down Ponto-cho, an adorably traditional restaurant street in Gion, and headed back to my tiny air-conditioned shipping container for some intense sleep. It was only 9:30pm, but I was dead, and honestly, there's not much touristing to do after dark.

I wanted some damn ice cream, because if I'm going to burn more calories than I'm physically able to consume in a day, I'm going to have some ice cream. But sadly, the ice cream places I'd passed on the way to dinner had closed, because they suck, so I went into McDonald's and had a cone with chocolate syrup and almonds that I devoured in approximately 3 minutes like a drunken bear. I was sweaty, with giant swollen feet and ice cream on my shirt, just like everyone abroad imagines Americans to be. I had succeeded in staying awake until dark after waking up at 5am, which to me, was a giant success. Time to sleep at least 10 hours.

To be continued...

Tuesday, June 5, 2018


Last weekend I had the fortuitous pleasure to be able to spend a whopping 36 hours in Kyoto, Japan. It's one of the many perks of living in Korea - an hour-and-a-half-long flight from Seoul and BAM, I'm in another country. And not even some "shithole" country (yep, I went there), but legitimately one of the places I'd been dreaming about since I was a child.

I'm sure it comes as no surprise that my childhood dream destinations were China and Japan, since I have in no way ever fallen into the "typical" child category. When I was obscenely young, probably 4 or 5, I became randomly obsessed with the China and Japan pavilions at EPCOT Center at Disney World. I didn't want to be a princess, or go to Paris, or have a pony - I just wanted to go to Asia. It didn't help that in MY FAVORITE Reading Rainbow episode that LaVar went to Japan, and it was dreamy and wonderful and perfect. (My second favorite episode is where he makes paper out of jeans...) Somewhere in my parents' house I'm sure they still have my child-sized kimono (with professionally matched obi belt courtesy of the nice lady at Japan EPCOT).

Well, 36 years later, I made my dream come true. I bought a ticket on a discount and entirely magenta Japanese airline to leave at 7:30am on a Saturday and return at 9pm the following evening (shout out to Peach Airlines, the Southwest of Japan). Pumped with adrenaline and the fact that the sun is FULLY UP at 5am in Korea, I was rearing to go. As we landed at 9:10am in Osaka, I was ready to walk the (spoiler alert) 28,145 steps of that Saturday all around Japan.

Thing one I noticed about Japan: it is chaotic. Even just reading the signs at the airport. They're colorful and taking up EVERY SURFACE, so you don't know where to look - oh, and they're all in Japanese. You laugh, but coming from Korea, where I am able to at least read the language (whether or not I actually know what it means), it was a little shocking to be surrounded by a language I couldn't even begin to phonetically butcher looking at its characters. There was some English, which sent me to the train ticket place, but anyone with any kind of travel anxiety might have simply melted into a puddle on the floor. 

I wanted to take the bullet train because OF COURSE, but the bullet train didn't have this adorable ticket option:
So I took the hour-ish train from Osaka to Kyoto Station, using the on-train WiFi to catch up on episodes of My Favorite Murder (as you do). When I arrived at Kyoto Station, I hadn't eaten in nearly six hours, which is unheard of for me, so I stopped at one of the TEN ramen restaurants inside the station and had a wonderful bowl of the most satisfying miso ramen.
I used the age-old "point and nod" since my Japanese is limited to "thank you" (which I learned from Mr. Roboto). Thank god for photographs of food on menus. It tasted like delicious salty, pork-y heaven, and was exactly what I needed before my half marathon walk ahead of me.

My first touristy trek, since it was only 11am, was the Fushimi Inari shrine - better known as "that place with all the orange gates that people post on Instagram." It was an easy two-stop train ride south of the station. Apparently everyone else had the same idea - Instagram makes you believe that it's deserted and quiet, but it's packed to the brim with tourists from all over the world, as well as some Japanese school kids in their cute little uniforms.
The whole place is covered in statues of foxes - apparently the foxes are some kind of messengers and so all the little stores have little white fox souvenirs. They're pretty cute, actually. You can see them in front of all the buildings (above) and randomly along the walk up the mountain.

The torii (orange gates) are actually all the way up this huge hill (mountain?) so while I thought I'd never get my perfect "abandoned" Instagram shot because of all the tourists, it did start to thin out the further up the hill I got. There's something magical about being at a place that is hundreds of years old - I believe the most recent reconstruction dated back to the 1600s-  and Kyoto is pretty much entirely that. Since the Japanese were almost never attacked on their own soil, all the historical sites have literally remained untouched for hundreds of years. In comparison, poor Korea has had most of their historical sites and buildings either destroyed and rebuilt, or "repurposed" during occupation by China or *ahem* Japan.

Part of my 28,000 steps was this whole damned hill that just kept going, but it was beautiful. I did finally get my solitary Fushimi Inari photo sans other tourists:
*Instagram perfection*

Once you make it to the top of the hill, the orange torii stop and you start walking down past a ton of shrines (that I found out later were GRAVEYARDS, YIKES). But because Japan is wonderful, and you should never hike without hydration, randomly along the path down the hill were vending machines. Full. Of. Green. Tea. My joy was palpable because OH GOD I LOVE JAPANESE TEA. And let's get real here for a second - Korea doesn't have good tea. It's all weird barley or corn or some other grain tea, and it's NOT GOOD. But rejoice! Every few hundred feet would be one of these:
That's my favorite brand - I have gotten it for years, and here it is at ¥150, or LESS THAN $1.50. In Korea I can find it at ONE PLACE for $2.50. Also look, MINI SIZES!

And if that wasn't enough to make my whole entire visit complete, it was lunch time for the adorable shrine kitties:

Speaking of kitties, there was another shrine kitty up on the hill by the torii, who sat off the path about six feet and just yelled at everyone passing by, like "HEY WHAT UP, TOURIST." I, of course, was like "HIIII KITTYYYY" and the people passing me thought I was nuts, but whatever.

Somewhere along the hill I hit 10,000 steps, something I usually do around 8pm on a normal day (or if it was before I moved to Korea, oh, about NEVER o'clock), and it was only noon. I got myself a little hangy thing and my friend a magnet (I GOT YOU SARA) and headed back to the train station for what will become Part II of the Japan Saga.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018


It's like that old saying: you don't know what you've got til it's gone.  And damn, do I miss my old buddy Garbage Disposal.

You've likely never thought about your garbage disposal, or at least, if you have, only in times when it's broken, or you shoved too many potato peels into it and it overflows. You've probably never thought, "Why do we have this weird grinder thing in our sink? What would my life be like without it? Do I really need it?"

I've only been without a garbage disposal twice - once in a building built in the 1920s that, despite being updated in most aspects, still had the original kitchen sink (sans disposal); and now, in my apartment in Korea. Apparently, according to BuzzFeed, garbage disposals are a uniquely American phenomenon.

I grew up using the garbage disposal as the place to put food trash. You didn't throw pieces of food in the garbage - that would make it stink. You threw it in the garbage disposal, turned it on, and bam, your food was whisked away to a magical world where you didn't have to worry about flies in your kitchen trash. It was a beautiful world. Where do you put eggshells? Disposal. That burned piece of steak your kid won't eat? Disposal. All those onion pieces  you picked out of your food? Yep, disposal. Piece of the plant that fell on the floor? Why not? An entire lemon? Sure! Literally anything that might possibly rot ever? YES.

As a side note, my garbage disposal was replaced about a year ago when I lived in LA, and they put one in that was BIONIC. Like legit COULD chop up an entire whole lemon, unsliced. I may or may not have found myself throwing random (food) things in it to see how hard core it was, and it ATE EVERYTHING.

Now that I'm disposal-less, LIFE IS DIFFICULT. Korea makes you sort EVERYTHING, from traditional recyclables like plastic, paper, metal and glass, to "other garbage" and "food waste." "Other garbage" DOES NOT INCLUDE food waste. So you have to scrape any leftovers into a bag specifically for food waste, which is really fucking gross. Since I'm not accustomed to leaving much leftover after eating, I'll have two tiny pieces of food to put in that stupid plastic bag and I'm not walking that shit out to the damn food waste bin on the street every time I have a meal - and you can be proud of my laziness, because that also means I'm not throwing out a different plastic bag each time I have 3 square inches of food to toss.

Where do I put it? The freezer. Don't judge, that's where everyone else puts it too. But it's pretty nasty. In order to fill up a bag enough to feel like you're not wasting energy and bags by taking it out, you have to look at eggshells, potato peels, broccoli stalks, gross pieces I cut off the chicken before I cooked it, something that got moldy in the fridge, or brown avocado pieces every time I open the freezer just to get some damned ice cubes for AT LEAST a week.

SO WHY THE HELL DON'T THEY HAVE A MAGIC FOOD GRINDER IN THE SINK?? Who in their right mind wants to put that nasty shit in a bag and have to touch it and think about it again? The garbage disposal is the kitchen embodiment of Americans sweeping problems under the rug. MY PASTA SAUCE HAS MOLD ON IT, I DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT, DOWN THE DRAIN YOU GO! You seriously want me to pour moldy pasta sauce (or other semi-liquid stuff) in a BAG? That's NASSSTY.

In one of the numerous BuzzFeed articles about dumb things America does (most of them are legit, America is dumb), one of the things mentioned was a garbage disposal. Someone commented about how ridiculous they were, and I was surprisingly offended. DON'T LIKE MY TRASH-EATING SINK??  FUCK YOUUU THEN. Have fun picking your potato peelings out of the sink ONE BY ONE with your FINGERS. Eww. Hope you eat everything on your plate, because there's NOWHERE FOR IT TO GO.

No, but like seriously, I really do eat crumbs off my plate now when I'm at home so I don't have food waste to throw away. I WANT MY GARBAGE DISPOSAL BACK. I WANT MY FREEDOM TO TOSS WHATEVER I WANT DOWN THE DRAIN ALL WILLY NILLY.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018


Well this is weird. I suppose I've written things before that weren't actively funny or full of anger-induced snark, but this still feels rather out-of-character.

To counteract any seriousness later on, here are a few things that I do now that I've been in Korea for 7.5 months:

- I pretty much automatically say "joesonghamnida" when I bump into someone, so soon I'll be at my "normal" of apologizing to inanimate objects in Korean as well
- I have perfected certain very simple phrases in Korean, but have also perfected my "yeah, that's literally all I know how to say in Korean" face for when someone replies back to me in Korean assuming I'm fluent
- I wear socks every day. It's really odd.
- I learned I can't wear a pollution mask because it makes me feel like I'm suffocating so I start having a panic attack
- I also learned that not wearing a pollution mask on certain days results in a crazy headache

So yeah, I'm settling in alright. Of the 7.5 months I've been here, 6 of them were winter. That's more winter than I've ever experienced in my life, all in one year. I'm more than a little excited for springtime.

A few things have happened that are worthy of mentioning - this time last year I was on 3 different antidepressants and I was still depressed. Right now, I'm only on one, and I'm not depressed at all. To be fair, I could really use a klonopin while I teach kindergarteners, though, but I haven't murdered anyone without it yet... This is the first time in my life when I've been "default happy." I'm not really worried about anything, I don't feel like I'm just going in circles in my life anymore, and I do see human beings on a daily basis (which sometimes, though, might be a little much).

Honestly I have no idea why I'm so much happier now. I mean, realistically, not much has changed. I haven't found my "dream job," I don't have a boyfriend, I'm not doing something super exciting every day. I guess I needed a change in scenery, and a new place to explore. I really don't know what it is.

I did, however, find my home. In 36 years, I have lived in 6 cities, in 3 states and 2 countries. Friends of mine from high school continuously go back to Austin after living away for a while, saying they were homesick. I never understood what homesick really felt like. I would miss people, and miss fun times, like law school or college, but I never missed a PLACE without the people. To me, home was where certain people were, not a fixed location. Now that my friends are scattered all over the world, there really is no central location that I can "miss" for being home to my friends. Until I moved to Korea...

I now understand what homesick means. Not horrible "I need to go home right now, this place sucks" kind of homesick, but missing a place and feeling like, when I do leave where I am now, I know where my HOME is. I miss LA. I left it knowing I had maybe 2-3 friends still left in the city. It's not about people anymore, it's about the place. That's my home. Seeing it in TV shows, pictures, anything - that's my home, that's where I belong. I miss MY Starbucks, and MY grocery store, and driving with the windows down through the hills. I miss In N Out, mostly at 1am.

But yeah, probably everyone here is like "uh, okay, so you feel homesick." YEAH but that's not the point. I never knew what it felt like before! I've never had a home to be sick FOR! I lived in Austin for 14 years, but I never pined for it. I was too young to really miss Springfield. So imagine, for a second, that you never felt this way about a place for 36 years of your life, then understand the magnitude. It's epiphany-esque.

Don't worry. I'm not coming back right now. I'll be here at least another year and a half (year long contracts). I like it here, it's nice. I'm glad I came, and I'm not finished yet. But I'm also glad I discovered I have a home to go back to when I want.

Wednesday, January 17, 2018


I'm not one to bury the lead here, people. Crunchy cookies should not be a thing.

In the four months that I've lived in Korea, I've found it to be a dessert-loving society and ice cream and cakes are readily available. As are donuts, chocolate croissants, shaved ice, and various types of Korean traditional desserts. A couple of weeks ago, some friends of mine and I actually went from Baskin Robbins straight across the street to a Krispy Kreme because we have no willpower (and needed breakfast for the next day). Whoever looks at my credit card statement would just be like WHOA FATTY FAT FAT, CALM DOWN.

However, in all the places I've had dessert items, one thing has been missing: delicious chocolate chip cookies. As much as I love ice cream, brownies and donuts, nothing makes me happier than a fresh, soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie, or, if I'm SUPER lucky, a DOUBLE chocolate chip cookie. Nothing is closer to my heart than a traditional cookie (and let's be real here, my heart is equal parts chocolate, cheese, and curry).

Sometime during my first month here, I noticed that in the myriad bakeries dotting the Korean landscape, there was not a single cookie. But...WHY? Maybe I don't want to indulge in a rich slice of cake for a snack, maybe I just want a little cookie to cure the craving. But none, nowhere. I occasionally found packaged cookies but didn't buy them.

Finally after way too long, I caved and bought a package of 6 cookies. It was a Peppridge Farm type package, and the picture on it was of a fresh chocolate chip cookie with melty chocolate chips. Mmmm. Soft melty chocolate chips, soft cookie... After lunch that day, I opened the package and to my horror I discovered that the cookies were not only not SOFT, they were ACTIVELY CRUNCHY. Like HARD. The kind where you bite it and crumbs fly everywhere because it crumbles into a billion goddamned pieces since it's such a WEAK excuse for a cookie. Ugh.

I know every cookie cannot be soft and gooey and fresh out of the oven, but there's a difference between one that's "not soft" and "actively hard." A cookie should kind of bend when you're trying to take a piece, not crack under pressure. If you drop your cookie on the table, it shouldn't sound like you dropped a wooden coaster. YOU SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO KNOCK ON A HARD SURFACE WITH A COOKIE. It's just UNREASONABLE.

Why would you do that to something so delicious? SERIOUSLY WHY? It has so much potential! Just don't cook it so damn long! Does anyone in their right mind PREFER hard cookies? HAVE KOREANS EVER EATEN A DELICIOUS FRESH BAKED COOKIE? DO THEY KNOW WHAT THEY'RE MISSING?

When I was back in the US for my winter break, I went to Starbucks with my mom. Without thinking too much, I got a cookie, as I had many times before. Then I ate it, and was overwhelmed with joy as I enjoyed the glorious soft chewiness that I'd been missing for so long. That is a proper cookie, my friends. Hard cookies are dessert abominations and should be forbidden.

Monday, November 20, 2017


Welcome back, folks. As anticipated, the saga of the Apartment Gestapo continues to provide entertainment to the masses. If you're just joining us, I live with two humans, and one of them believes we need to clean behind the microwave weekly.

On the last episode, I told Apartment Gestapo that doing a weekly deep clean of the entire apartment was unnecessary and unreasonable, considering the fact that one of the rooms is never used, and the other one is fucking immaculately clean all the time. AG responded with a 3-page memo dictating exactly what days we're supposed to clean and pinpointed specific things to "remember" to do. It was maybe the most ridiculous shit I've ever seen.

This weekend I was accosted in the kitchen, because I can't have any peace in my own fucking apartment, and told that I was supposed to clean last weekend but I didn't, so I needed to do it this weekend. I took a quick look at the kitchen, ran my hand over the counter, and made a judgment call that cleaning was not required at this time.

Below are photographs of the area in question. This is exactly what it looked like when I was told to clean it. The images below might be DISTURBING TO SOME VIEWERS if you have any kind of cleanliness-related OCD.
This is the offending area. As you can see, it's filthy. I can barely stand to look at it. You can zoom in if you DARE.

Another view of the room in question. There's a goddamn crumb next to the fridge. I'm a fucking MONSTER to have let this sit there that long!

 This is a wide angle view of the kitchen. It looks like a goddamned murder scene. I should be arrested based on this photo alone.
This one is hard to look at. I mean, there are like 3 crumbs. I can't even believe I can show you such horror.

I have directed your attention to part of the crime scene. I am so embarrassed for you to see this, you'll never think of me as hygienic again.

I know this is hard to look at, but you must. The arrows indicate two stray pieces of uncooked ramen noodles lying carelessly on the stove. What is NOT SHOWN is the OTHER THING that was left on the stove...

THIS PIECE OF FISH. WAS ON. THE STOVE. But who makes fish? Apartment Gestapo! In fact, she made fish LAST NIGHT. So this fish has been there for nearly 24 hours. Likely on purpose to make me clean it up. So there are two ramen crumbs left by Guy Roommate, and then a chunk of day-old fish left by everyone's favorite fascist. So she was upset at how dirty SHE made the stove?

Here is a series of text messages received yesterday by both myself and Guy Roommate. As you will note, it's a pretty one-sided conversation.
10:24am: Novel begins.
Items of note: "can WE clean what WE were supposed to clean last week?"
"small meeting"

Items of note: Oooh, directed at me! "don't forget" lolol
FYI, there was NO food in the drain. I looked.
"last time...I cleaned alone guys" yes, that's correct, because it didn't need to be cleaned, so the reasonable roommates did not think it necessary to clean things that are clean.
"Let's not have a repeat of that" I can't promise that at any given time, even immediately after one of us has undertaken any type of cleaning, that you will be satisfied with the cleanliness because your standards are LIKE A GODDAMNED FANTASY WORLD

Items of note: More use of the word "we" here. Not condescending at all.
"also I didn't clean last weekend!" WE DON'T CARE BECAUSE IT DIDN'T NEED CLEANING.
"next week we are scheduled to clean again" Well, we must do everything by the schedule, mustn't we? It would be completely unreasonable to assess the situation at the time and determine if action was necessary. Or what if I spilled all over the counter on TUESDAY? Should I wait until my cleaning was scheduled?

8:06pm: Almost 10 hours have passed and she obviously had some sort of breakdown because we didn't immediately drop everything and do exactly what she wanted. I'm proud that she was able to hold it in that long. Baby steps.
"I'VE decided that each person must have their own shelf" LOLOL OKAY MEIN FUHRER
"The one with the lesser food is mine" You teach English. There are 3 shelves. Incorrect use of both the word "lesser" and lack of superlative form - "The one with the LEAST food is mine."
"Guess u can throw it out yourselves"  Ohh, full on passive-aggression, nice. And if you would just have resorted to this fucking concept earlier, "guess you can clean up after yourselves," maybe we wouldn't be receiving unsolicited text messages at all hours of the day.
"Coolio" translation: it is entirely NOT coolio.

Then, as I mentioned earlier today, she decided to tell the landlord/our boss that we weren't cleaning. Because that's what adults do. They go cry to their fucking landlord about how their roommates won't go along with their dictatorship and do something because it's "scheduled" (by her, of course). Landlord/boss has not seen our apartment. She just knows what AG has told her, so she assumes we're living in filth. Good thing I took those photos to show how completely fucking ridiculous she is. 

And if you're keeping count, only 5 more days in this prison.

Sunday, November 19, 2017


- I'm running out of socks.

- I think I'm going to lay down on the floor, it's so warm.

- No cabbage on my toast, please.

- I haven't seen a single trash can in two hours.

- Why am I the only person who needs a napkin in this whole restaurant?

- Mmm, this convenience store fried chicken is delicious.

- There's mustard on my breakfast sandwich.

- Damn, octopus for lunch again.

- I just walked through a park at night and no one tried to rob/rape/murder me.

- Can I get more of the fried chicken flavored chips please?

- This subway smells nice.

- This is the toothbrush my bank gave me for opening an account.

- I'll pick up some new makeup in the subway station when I get there.

- Why is my drink so small?

- Hmm, it looks like I'm going to need to use the MEAT SCISSORS on this piece.

- Where can I get tea that DOESN'T taste like grain?

- Good thing I brought my own toilet paper.