... and I farted.
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya's house to get some coffee. The only thing I found in the kitchen was a box of"Gourmet" coffee beans. I'm not sure if there's anything special in there, but it's pretty good. I took a sip and found out that the beans are made with a lot of coffee, so I took a bite out of them. They were so sweet and rich, and I was so hungry. I'm not sure if I was thinking about food or not, but I took another bite out of the coffee and it tasted so good. I was so hungry, I nearly forgot that I had to go to the bathroom. I went to the bathroom and ate a banana, then I came back and ate another banana, and then I ate a banana again. I was so hungry. I sat down in the kitchen and I ate a banana, then another banana, and then another banana. And then I ate another banana. Finally, I ate a banana. I was so hungry.
Yesterday, I went over to Yoshinoya for a simple meal. Yes, THAT beef bowl house, Yoshinoya. I'd been craving it ever since I went to a restaurant in Tokyo and saw a giant beef bowl. I was so excited to try it.
Yoshinoya is a very famous restaurant in Tokyo. It's owned by a guy named Yoshio Yoshino who has been doing this for a long time. He is known for his "Yoshinoya" beef bowls. I was really looking forward to trying it.
Yoshinoya Beef Bowl Yoshinoya Beef Bowl
I ordered the beef bowl with a side of green vegetables and a side of rice. I was expecting a beef bowl but it was actually a bowl of beef. I didn't really know what I was eating. It was a bit bland. It was very bland. I could have picked up a couple of other bowls, but I was just looking for a bowl of beef. I was pretty disappointed with the bowl. Yoshinoya Beef Bowl I would definitely order this again.
( ˃ ◡˂) Dicks out for Yoshinoya!
Well, I think Americans are tremendously fond of barbecues.
I had a fat client overseas invite me over to one as thanks and I reluctantly accepted.
First off, the meat was a surprise. They buy it in kilos, large chunks. They look at the meat I bought as
a gift and say, “that's not enough, peasant.” Like, the economic animal must not be used to eating meat.
I bet 4 kilos of meat costs less than the 500 grams I bought. But wait a minute, this is mostly fat.
Then, the fatty cuts the meat. Just cuts and cuts. While the fat punks I assume were his kids looked at him.
It didn't even look like they were gonna say “daddy's cool” either. Are you Hiromi Go? Fuck it.
The steel plates were dirty and sticky with remains. Wash. Wash with detergent. Actually, go buy new ones.
He grilled a lot and his family ate all the good meat up… except he forgot the guest was here.
They just eat and eat. The fatty roasts it, hands it to his family, and it doesn't even come my damn way?
When the meal's almost over, they say “You haven't eaten at all?” and gave me their leftovers. Fuck.
After they ate like 5 kilos, they started drinking Diet Coke and low-calorie beer.
“I'll drink too,” the fat son says. You've been doing drugs and drinking, haven't you?
His fat daughter said something like “Oh, I'm tipsy, you look great.” Don't look at me, I'll kill you.
The fat wife says, “I gained weight” and the fat husband says, “Don't worry, it's zero calories.”
I don't understand what the hell this American joke is. Damn it, what's so funny? Go fuck yourselves.
Well, guys, if you ever get invited to an American barbecue, you better watch out.
Anyways, >>1, please listen to me. That it's really related to this thread.
I went to Yoshinoya a while ago; you know, Yoshinoya?
Well anyways there was an insane number of people in line, and I couldn't get in.
Then, I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had "Please practice social distancing" written on it.
Oh, the stupidity. Those idiots.
You, don't come to Yoshinoya and practice social distancing, fool.
COVID only has a 2% death rate, TWO PERCENT for crying out loud.
There're even entire families here. Family of 4, all out for some respiratory disease, huh? How fucking nice.
"Alright, daddy's high risk so he'll stay outside." God I can't bear to watch.
You people, I'll buy you life insurance policies if you croak already.
Yosinoya should be a bloody place.
That tense atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can start coughing at any time,
the allergies-or-COVID mentality, that's what's great about this place.
Asthmatics and diabetics should screw off and stay home.
Anyways, I was about to start eating, and then the bastard beside me goes "my body, my choice."
Who in the world makes excuses for not wearing a mask nowadays, you moron?
I want to ask him, "do you REALLY want to make excuses?"
I want to interrogate him. I want to interrogate him for roughly an hour.
Are you sure you don't just want to try owning the libs?
Coming from a COVID veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us survivors is this, blood clots.
That's right, blood clots. This is the vet's way of being hospitalized.
Blood clots means more clots than blood. But on the other hand the symptoms are a tad more mysterious. This is the key.
And then, it's deadly even if you're young. This is unbeatable.
However, if you order this then there is danger that you'll be marked by the nurses from next time on; it's a double-edged sword.
I can't recommend it to amateurs.
What this all really means, though, is that you, >>1, should just get yourself put on a ventilator.
Anyways, >>1, please listen to me. That it’s really related to this thread.
I went to Go Go Curry today; you know, Go Go Curry?
Well anyways there was an insane number of people there, and I couldn’t get in.
Then, I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had “All dishes 500 yen” written on it.
Oh, the stupidity. Those idiots.
You, don’t come to Go Go Curry just because it’s 500 yen, fool.
It’s only 500 yen, 5-0-0 YEN for crying out loud.
There’re even entire families here. Family of 4, all out for some Go Go Curry, huh? How fucking nice.
“Alright, daddy’s gonna order the Business (Double in America) Roast Katsu.” God I can’t bear to watch.
You people, I’ll give you 200 yen if you get out of those seats.
Go Go Curry should be a bloody place.
That tense atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can start a fight at any time, the stab-or-be-stabbed
mentality, that’s what’s great about this place.
Women and children should screw off and stay home.
Anyways, I was about to start eating, and then the bastard beside me goes, “Extra cabbage.”
Who in the world orders extra cabbage nowadays, you moron?
I want to ask him, “Do you REALLY want to eat it with extra cabbage?”
I want to interrogate him. I want to interrogate him for roughly an hour.
Are you sure you don’t just want to try saying, “Extra cabbage?”
Coming from a Go Go Curry veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us vets is this, nattou double topping.
And then, extra roux. This is the vet’s way of eating.
The nattou has a raw egg in it. With this substitution there are no fried foods. This is the key.
Then you add cheese, a hard-boiled egg, and some pickled shallots. This is unbeatable.
However, if you order this then there is danger that you’ll be marked by the employees from next time on; it’s a double-edged sword.
I can’t recommend it to amateurs.
What this all really means, though, is that you, >>1, should just stick with the Economy Roast Katsu during Go Go Time.
I just left Yoshinoya. It smells like stale farts in there.
Yo, check it out, this is important. I went to the beach the other day, you know, the seaside? Well, the place was packed with horses, and I couldn’t find a place to lay my towel down. Then I noticed a sign nearby that said “HORSE DAY AT THE BEACH”. Oh, the stupidity. Those idiots! You don’t come to the beach just because some sign says you can! Every day is horse day at the beach! You can come to the beach any day, stupid horses! Why did you all come at once? It’s just a SIGN, a S-I-G-N some HUMAN made for crying out loud! There’s even whole horse families here, mummy horse and daddy horse and little foals, all out for a nice canter on the sand, huh? How fucking nice.
Just then, the daddy horse cheerfully went “NEIGHHHH!”. God I can’t bear to watch. You horsies, I’ll give you all a bunch of sugarcubes if you just give me some space to put my towel down.
The beach should be a relaxing place. That calm atmosphere, where two dudes can build a sandcastle together at any time, that splash-or-be-splashed mentality, that’s what’s great about this place. Women and children are also welcome.
Anyways, I’d just found a clear spot and started to rub suntan lotion on my bare bum, when the bastard horse nearby whinnied and trotted through the surf. Who whinnies in this day and age, dumb horse!? I want to ask him, “What the fuck are you whinnying at?” I want to interrogate him. I want to interrogate him for roughly an hour. Are you sure you weren’t just looking for attention from the other horses?
Coming from a seaside veteran like myself, the latest trend among us vets is this, gigantic beach balls. That’s right, a huge colourful inflatable beach ball. This is the vet’s way of having fun at the beach. It’s like a normal beach ball, but it’s massive. It’s a bit more expensive, and takes a while to inflate - this is key. But then, it’s delightful, seeing it float through the air, the sun shining on the bright colours. This is unbeatable. However, if you play with a huge ball like this, everyone along the entire beach can see you, and there is also a danger that the ball will blow away; it’s a double-edged sword. I can’t recommend it to amateurs.
What this all means though, is that you horses should just stick to the caravan parks
It's not really related to the thread. It's not really related to the thread, but...
The other day, I went to Yoshinoya in my neighborhood. Yoshino-ya.
There were so many people there that I couldn't sit down.
And when I looked closer, there was a banner hanging down, saying "150 yen discount.
I thought, "What a jerk. I thought it was stupid.
You guys shouldn't come to Yoshinoya, which you don't usually come to, just for a 150 yen discount, you idiots.
It's 150 yen, 150 yen.
There were some parents and their children there. A family of four at Yoshinoya. Congratulations.
I can't stand to see them saying, "Okay, Dad, I'm going to order the extra large! I can't stand it anymore.
You guys, I'll give you 150 yen and you can have that seat.
Yoshino-ya should be more bleak, you know.
You could start a fight with the guy sitting across from you at the U-shaped table at any time.
It's a stab-or-be-stabbed kind of atmosphere, isn't it? Women and children, stay out of it.
Then, just when I thought I was finally able to sit down, the guy next to me asked for a large bowl of soup.
That's when I lost my temper again.
You know, "dipping in soy sauce" is not popular these days. You idiot.
What do you mean, "with dipping sauce" with a smug look on your face?
I want to ask you if you really want to eat tsuyusaku. I want to ask you. I want to ask you for an hour.
I'm a Yoshinoya connoisseur.
I'm a Yoshinoya connoisseur, and I can tell you that the latest fad among Yoshinoya connoisseurs is
I'm a Yoshinoya connoisseur.
Oodakari negikaku gyoku. This is the way to order it.
Negikakudaku means that there are more onions in it. But with less meat. That's it.
And a big bowl of gyoku (egg) on top of that. This is the best.
However, it is a double-edged sword, because if you order this, you will be marked by the waitress next time.
It's not recommended for amateurs.
Well, you, one, should just eat the beef salmon set meal.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
Anyways, >>1, please listen to me. That it's really related to this thread.
I went back to Yoshinoya a while ago; you remember, Yoshinoya?
Well anyways it was eerily empty. Not a single person there.
I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had "150 yen off" written on it.
Really? Even a discount like that isn't pulling the idiots in?
I guess it is only 150 yen. That doesn't bring in the families of 4 like it used to.
Yosinoya should be a bloody place.
That tense atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can start a fight at any time,
the stab-or-be-stabbed mentality, that's what this place means to me.
I should be begging the women and children to screw off and stay home.
I imagine some ugly bastard beside me ordering "extra-large, with extra sauce."
The hot flush of indignation warms me, for a moment.
Then, a woman appears behind the counter at last.
Her uniform looks too big on her. She can't be more than a teenager.
An abyss yawns open just above my diaphragm, as I realise it's been two decades since I made that now infamous post on 2ch.
Was she even born yet at the time?
Does she know what a Yoshinoya veteran is? Has she ever heard the words "extra-large with extra green onion"?
While I wasn't looking, these ideas have been wiped away like spilt sauce off a U-shaped table.
I was so worried about being remembered by the employees, I never thought I might end up forgotten like this.
A deep sigh leaves my body like a late autumn breeze.
"I guess I'll just have today's special," I say.
Well, never mind all that, 208.120.151.124. This has nothing to do with "/sa/shii/pixel/ikachan.nsf", but would you just listen to me for a little bit? See, I went to the local Yoshinoya today. Right. Yoshinoya. And the damn place was packed so full of people, I couldn't even find a seat. So I looked around a bit, and I found a sign that said "150 yen off". What the hell is wrong with you people? Are you idiots or something? Any other day you wouldn't even think of going to Yoshinoya, but if it's 150 yen off, you all flock in here? It's just 150 fucking yen! 150 yen! And you're bringing the kids too. Look at that, a family of four going to Yoshinoya. Con-fucking-gratulations. And now the guy's going, "All right! Daddy's going to order the extra-large!" Shit, I can't watch any more of this.
Yoshinoya should be fucking brutal. Two guys sit facing each other across a U-shaped table, and you never quite know if they'll suddenly just start a fight right there. It's stab-or-be-stabbed, and that's what so damn great about the place. Women and kids should stay the fuck away.
Well, I finally found a seat, but then the guy next to me goes, "I'll have an large bowl with extra gravy!". So now I'm pissed off again. Who the fuck orders extra gravy these days? Why are you looking so goddamn proud when you say that? I was gonna ask you, are you really going to fucking eat all that gravy? I wanted to fucking interrogate you. For about a fucking hour. You know what? I think you just wanted to say "extra gravy".
Now, take it from the Yoshinoya veteran. The latest thing among the Yoshinoya pros is this: Extra green onions. That's the ticket. A large bowl with extra onions, and egg. This is what someone who knows his shit orders. They put in more onions, and less meat. A large bowl with the raw egg, that's really fucking awesome. Now, you should know, if you keep ordering this, there's a risk employees might write you up. This really is a double-edged sword. I really can't recommend this for amateurs.
And you, 208.120.151.124, well, you should really just stick to today's special.
What this all really means, though, is that you, >>1, should just stick with the three-cheese cheese beef bowl.
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya in my neighborhood. Yoshinoya.
Then, the place was so full of people that I couldn't sit down.
And when I looked closely, I saw a banner that said "150 yen off" or something like that.
I thought it was stupid. You guys are idiots.
Don't come to Yoshinoya, which you don't usually come to, just for a 150 yen discount, you idiots.
It's 150 yen, 150 yen.
There were people with their parents and children. A family of four at Yoshinoya? Congratulations.
They're saying, "All right, Dad, I'm going to order the extra large portion. I can't stand to watch that.
You guys, I'll give you 150 yen to have that seat.
Yoshinoya should be more reserved.
It could start a fight with the guy sitting across from you at the U-shaped table at any moment.
It's the kind of atmosphere where you either get stabbed or get stabbed. Women and children should stay out of it.
Then, just when I was finally able to sit down, the guy next to me said, "I'll have a big bowl of soup," and that's when I lost my temper again.
Then, I was pissed off again.
You know, it's not fashionable these days to have a large bowl of soup. What are you talking about?
What are you talking about with a big bowl of soup?
I want to ask him if he really wants to eat it. I want to ask you. I want to ask you for an hour.
I want to ask you for an hour if you just want to say "tsuyu-madasu".
As a Yoshinoya connoisseur, I can tell you that the latest trend among Yoshinoya connoisseurs right now is "Negi-sukadake".
Negi-Tadasu, that's it.
A big bowl of Negi-Tadaku Gyoku. This is the way to ask for it.
Negi-Tadasu" means that there are more negi (green onions) in it. But it has less meat instead. This is it.
And a big bowl of gyok (egg). This is the best.
However, it is a double-edged sword, because if you order this, you risk being marked by the waiter the next time.
It is not recommended for amateurs.
Well, you amateurs should just eat the beef and salmon set meal.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya. Some Narutard committed "Onara no jutsu!"
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya, had lunch, and then returned to work.
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya and it smelled like a skunk died up someone's ass.
∧w∧
<=・ω・> I'm alone...
/∪ ∪
<((( ( O O
Yesterday, I went to Yoshinoya and had some delicious raccoon gyuudon.
morning in january. 26 degrees. i get up just before sunrise and get dressed. i go outside and get in a black 1992 chevy s-10 pickup truck, and as i drive off down the street the exhaust from the still cold muffler forms a small white cloud of vapour that dances behind me. i hunch forward a bit as i wait for the heat to come on. the air blows loudly from the dashboard vent, not yet warm enough to melt the frost pattern that dots the windshield.
fifteen minutes later i pull into a yoshinoya. the sky to the west glows a deep blue as dawn nears. as i step from the truck i hear the sound of my feet crackling on the frozen muddy tire tracks in the parking lot. at the top of the cement steps i open the metal door and the bell on the inside jingles as i push myself in from the cold. i eat an extra large, and an order of extra sauce. and two cups of black coffee. then i die
I went to Dairy Queen the other day. You know, Dairy Queen.
Well, anyways there were so many people there, it was ridiculous.
Then, I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had "Free dilly bar" written on it.
Oh, you idiots. Absolute imbeciles.
You, don't just come to Dairy Queen for a dilly bar, fool.
It's only a dilly bar, a DILLY BAR for crying out loud. Not to mention you have to fill out a survey too.
There are even entire families here. Family of 4, all going out for Dairy Queen, huh? Give me a break.
"Alright, daddy's gonna order the oreo blizzard." God, I can't watch this shit.
You people, I'll treat you to an ice cream cake if you just get out of the line.
Dairy Queen should be a bloodier place.
That tense atmosphere, where only the opposing corridored booths prevent two guys from starting a fight at any time,
that stab-or-be-stabbed mentality, that's what should be taking place here.
Women and children should just get up and leave.
Anyways, I was about to fill up my drink, and then the bastard next to me goes "Peanut buster parfait, with extra hot fudge."
Who in the world wants more hot fudge, fatass?
I'm gonna tell him, "do you REALLY want that much hot fudge?"
I want to mess with him. I want to psychologically torment him.
Are you sure you didn't just want to say "I got it with extra hot fudge?"
Coming from a Dairy Queen veteran such as myself, the latest trend among the vets is this, extra peanuts.
That's right, extra peanuts. This is how the vets know it.
Extra peanuts means more peanuts than fudge. But on the other hand they'll charge you a dollar. This is the key.
And then, it's delicious. Something like this is unbeatable.
However, if you order this then there is danger that they'll flat-out ignore your request; it's a double-edged sword.
I can't recommend it to amateurs.
In the end what this means, is that you, >>1, should just stick with the banana split.
now listen to me young man, i am talking directly into your ear now. i need you to do me a favor. you will do this for me. i need you to go to yoshinoya, and i need you to ask the bastard working the u-shaped counter if they have omori negidaku with an egg. if you come back empty handed youll be in big trouble mister. you will never see the light of day.
Hey man, it's good to see you! I haven't seen you in ages, seems like you don't go out much, huh?
I was just about to head out for some Yoshinoya, you interested? You said you were a Yoshinoya fan, right?
Sorry, a Yoshinoya veteran. That's what I meant.
Anyways, it's just up the street. Let's go, I'm starving!
Wow, it's busy, huh! Must be the lunch rush.
Oh sweet, they've got a discount on! 150 yen off, huh.
All right, what do you think you'll order? I'm thinking the extra large with---
What?
No, I don't think he's staring at you.
Start a fight? What are you talking about? Do you know that guy or something?
I can ask him to move if you want.
Uh, you feeling okay?
Right, yeah.
Okay, yeah, don't worry about it buddy. It's fine.
Anyway, you said you wanted extra large with extra onion, right?
Extra green onion, sorry.
Yeah, okay, I got it. I think I'll go with the same but with extra sauce.
Hey, you see that waitress over there? I'd like to give her some extra sauce if you know what I---
Uh, you okay? Speak up a bit, I can't hear you mumbling under your breath like that.
Interrogate me? What are you talking ab---
Woah!
Woah, easy buddy. Just chill.
Put the knife down, okay? We're all friends here, right?
Easy, just put the---
Okay, sorry. Sorry. Let's just put the knife down, okay?
What?
The---
Yeah, sure, I'll order today's special. Whatever you say, man. Just take some deep breaths, okay?
Okay.
Actually, uh, how's about we just head home, maybe? Seems like you're having a bad day.
Yeah, yeah.
I'll see you around. Take care of yourself, okay?
In my restless dreams, I see that place.
Yoshinoya.
You promised me you'd take me there again someday.
But you never did.
Well, I'm alone there now...
Ordering our 'special dish'...
Waiting for you...
My family has had bad luck with the new local Dairy Queen in Dallas on Coit Rd just north of Belt Line. We have been through the drive thru every time except for once, and about half of the time our order was messed up when we arrived home. On New Years Day 2017, I visited the local DQ around 12:30PM. I waited for over 15 minutes in the drive thru, so I went into the restaurant to get my food. I was told that they were waiting on french fries, which should not take 15 minutes. When they brought my food, I quickly checked it to make sure that it was correct. Well, since the last time we ordered a plain hot dog it was not plain, I checked the one that I was just given. The above picture is what I found. I showed it to the manager and he offered to make a new one, but I told him that I did not want to wait any longer and I left. So beware, if you don't like your Dairy Queen hot dogs looking like they died an unnatural death, then get the chili on the side and make sure you get a look before you bite, because who would want to take a bite of a hot dog like the one in this picture?
I asked DQ headquarters for my money back twice (because I will not get food from that restaurant again), and they ignored my request. So I decided to spend $$ to put this lovely picture online. Dairy Queen, please take care of your customers when you make mistakes.
Yoshinoya appeared to me in a dream and said "Fuck off gaijin! This place is not for you!" and I woke up hungry.
Anyways, >>1, please listen to me. I know what I'm about to say sounds crazy, but just hear me out, okay?
I went to Yoshinoya a while ago; you know, Yoshinoya?
Well anyways it was eerily quiet. Not even any staff behind the counter.
The lights were on and the doors were open, but there was no one there.
They didn't even have the usual discount promotion banner hanging from the ceiling.
Anyways, I was about to leave, when I noticed an unmarked door slightly ajar towards the back of the room.
Coming from a Yoshinoya veteran such as myself, I have to admit, I was a bit curious what went on back there, so I took a few cautious steps inside.
Oh, the stupidity. I was such an idiot.
I'd give anything to have just gotten out of there when I had the chance.
The bare concrete corridor stretched out ahead of me, perhaps a little further than it should have given the dimensions of the building.
"Hello? Anyone there?" I called out. God, I can't bear to remember it.
There was no response but the buzz of the fluorescent strip lighting overhead.
As I approached the corner at the end of the corridor, my chest suddenly went tight. I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath.
I turned the corner and what confronted me was this, a locked door.
That's right, a locked door. I was almost relieved when the handle wouldn't budge.
There was a faint savoury smell, with just a hint of something sickly-sweet underneath, like rotting fruit.
I thought it was coming from behind the door until I heard the low, droning creak from immediately behind me.
Perhaps she had once been an employee. Perhaps not.
She was roughly humanoid, and wearing the Yoshinoya uniform, but the rest of her was all wrong.
Her hands looked like bundles of twigs with skin stretched over them. Her joints articulated the wrong way.
And her face... the whole jaw was just gone, and there was some sort of origami floret of raw meat in its place.
Her eyes... I don't want to think about it.
What in the world are you, you freak?
I wanted to run. I wanted to run and scream and cry for at least an hour.
The door behind me wouldn't open, of course, and she was between me and the exit.
She laughed, or gurgled in an amused sounding way at least.
Is this REALLY something to laugh about?
Are you sure you aren't just trying to scare me?
Anyways, what happened next, I don't really know how to talk about.
All I have is a torrential kaleidoscope of raw sensation and experience.
My face pressed against the griddle. The smell of burnt flesh and the hiss and pop of my own bubbling fat.
Every bubble of grease burning the inside of my lungs as I drown in beef broth.
My own body, heaped in green onion, cut apart and masticated and swallowed and digested by some family of 4, all out for some Yoshinoya. How fucking mad.
It makes no sense, and I can't make it make sense to you because I can't even make it make sense to myself.
Somehow, I stumbled out, alive and unhurt. It felt like a lifetime had passed but my watch said it was less than an hour.
Yoshinoya is a bloody place, in ways I don't even have the vocabulary to describe.
I can't recommend it to anyone.
What this all really means, though, is that you, >>1, should just stay the hell away from that place. I'm serious.
https://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1680434551/556
This advanced linguistic research on the Yoshinoya rant needs to be preserved for posterity.
Also 400GET
So I managed to pick up a pot of Samyang 2x spicy hot chicken flavor, and I have been happily storing it away until this evening when I planned to finally tuck in.
I found the instructions very clear and easy to follow. I found the bowl design of the packaging fantastically efficient. I fried some bacon and mushrooms to add to the noodles and can clearly see how ramen so quickly became a staple food in Eastern climes.
What I did not expect was the life altering revelation that Samyang would bring to me. A moment of such clarity of spirit and placement within the wide universe that I felt as if I was looking at myself from without.
In this moment of catharsis I discovered that there are two types of bucket-lists.
One is the normal super fun lists of things you want to do in the life.
The other is a not so fun list of things you never want to learn about yourself.
Today I learned I am a bitch. But not just any type of bitch.
Have you ever met one of those absolute chodes that goes around saying stuff like, "I love spicy food," - "Nothing is too hot for me." - "If I could bottle hellfire I'd sprinkle it on my chips." And then folds like a cheap trick at the first sing of heat.
Today, laddies and djents, I am that chode.
Here and now I swear blind that I'll never again attest that I eat hot all the time. Or that I love jalapenos. Or that I put chili flakes on everything.
I am a heat-bitch, and I see that now. Samyang 2x spicy scorched my soul from my lean flanks, twisted me once around the sun, and sat me back down, blistered and burned, to revel at the scope of my folly.
There is no god, only heat. Yet still I pray that my lips will cease to hurt.
Pray for me if you can.
I've been watching a stream of AI-driven conversations that uses the dragon ball Z characters, and I decided to throw in the Yoshinoya rant...
> Oh hey Nanashi! "The vet's way of eating", right? Ahaha!
Shit. I've been marked. That was a warning shot.
I can never fucking come to this godforsaken place again.
Even if it means driving an extra hour out of town, I will do it.
You can't be too careful in this island nation.
Because if someone really scary wants to get you, there's no escape route.
If only I had pretended to be an amateur for a day!
>>404
Yosinoya should be a hygienic place.
That mutually respectful atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can use the same communal ginger bowl without fear of contamination,
the be-clean-or-be-stabbed mentality, that's what's great about this place.
Waifu Natto Kiss. My wife was having her usual breakfast with Natto (which I despise). I was in a rush to leave and gave her a quick but somewhat passionate kiss on the lips. As I pulled my head back, our lips were still connected by a slimy trail of Natto. I tried to remove it with my hand, but it was very difficult and messy, and my white t-shirt ended up tarnished with Natto.
Accepting defeat, I left the house as a Natto-tarnished Kaishain. With no time to change, I had to head to work with slimy lips and a shirt stained by Natto, or risk being late.
Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. Great gyūdon restaurant Yoshinoya just opened in town. Go and order yourself today's special. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor... I am a Yoshinoya veteran."
>>1 waited. The 150 yen off banner above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were idiots in the Yoshinoya. He didn't see them, but had expected them, now for years. His warnings to 2ch were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
>>1 was a Yoshinoya veteran for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the diners and he said to dad "I want to order extra green onion, daddy."
Dad said "NO! YOU WILL BE MARK BY THE EMPLOYEES FROM NEXT TIME ON!"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the Yoshinoya; you know, Yoshinoya? he knew there were idiots.
"This is 2ch," the radio crackered. "You must interrogate the idiots!"
So >>1 told the women and children to screw off and stay home.
"HE GOING TO INTERROGATE US," said the idiots!
"Alright, daddy's gonna order the extra-large." said the family of four and he ordered the extra-large with extra sauce. >>1 couldn't bear to watch and tried to interrogate him for roughly an hour. But then the U-shaped table fell and they were trapped and not able to interrogate.
"No! I must interrogate the idiots," he shouted!
The radio said "No, >>1. You are the idiots."
And then, >>1 should've just stuck with today's special.
"With a U-shaped table, you can start a fight anytime you want" he said to himself, out loud.
TOKYO -- Japanese gyudon beef bowl chain operator Yoshinoya Holdings is making a push into the ostrich business, creating a skin care line using the bird's oil and putting its meat on the menu at restaurants in limited quantities, eyeing the efficient-to-raise animals as a future profit source.
"We will establish ostrich as an option that can bring wellness both to people and to Earth," said Yoshinoya Holdings President Yasutaka Kawamura at a press conference to announce the company's new ostrich-related ventures in Tokyo on Wednesday.
Ostrich oil has a fatty acid composition close to that of human skin, and its beauty-enhancing ingredients penetrate the skin more easily than vegetable-based oils, the company said, making it ideal for its new line of cosmetics.
Prices range from 5,720 yen to 15,400 yen ($40 to $106) for a booster oil used before applying facial lotion, and a beauty cream is priced at 16,500 yen. The products went on sale through various online retailers in addition to Yoshinoya's website from Wednesday.
Though ostrich oil cosmetics and beef bowls might seem like a mismatch at first glance, the new business stems from a concern about future food shortages, triggered by Yoshinoya's expansion into China.
The company's first full-fledged foray into that highly populous country, in Shanghai around 2000, made it realize that continuing to serve beef bowls to so many people could someday become difficult. Those fears have become a reality in the form of soaring beef prices due to increased consumption in emerging markets and developing countries.
As of early August, the Japanese wholesale price of frozen U.S. beef belly used in gyudon was 1,450 yen to 1,530 yen per kilogram, up about 80% on the year.
U.S. beef prices are expected to remain high for the time being as the production cycle -- where the number of cattle naturally increases and decreases -- is in a declining phase. Yoshinoya was forced to raise gyudon prices in late July.
Global meat consumption in 2033 is expected to reach about 390 million tonnes, up 12% from the average for 2021 to 2023, according to the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development and the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations.
Ostriches have a higher feed efficiency than cows and pigs, requiring just 30% to 40% of the feed needed to produce cows, according to Yoshinoya. Cows need large amounts of both feed and water, and they release large amounts of methane, a greenhouse gas.
Ostriches, meanwhile, are said to lack the microorganisms in their digestive tracts that create methane, resulting in less than half the methane emissions of cows. They have been attracting attention in the global restaurant industry as a promising solution to food shortage problems.
Yoshinoya Holdings operates an ostrich farm in Ibaraki prefecture, northeast of Tokyo. (Photo obtained by Nikkei)
Yoshinoya entered the ostrich farming business in 2015 by purchasing an ostrich farm in Ibaraki prefecture, which is northeast of Tokyo.
In 2017, the company established a unit that would later become Speedia, which handles ostrich farming and is the name brand for its skin care products. It currently has 3.6 hectares of farmland and raises 500 ostriches, making it one of the largest such operations in Japan.
The Japanese market is still in its infancy. The number of ostriches being raised in Japan is at most 5,000, according to Yoshinoya and other sources. Domestic consumption is low -- less than 1% of the amount of chicken or beef consumed.
"We have not yet reached a level where we can run the business as a livestock one," Kawamura said. Since it is difficult to make a profit from the meat alone, the company came up with a model to also develop cosmetics that use ostrich oil, a by-product.
In conjunction with the cosmetics sales, Yoshinoya restaurants started selling set meals of ostrich bowls with soup for 1,683 yen in a limited run of 60,000 servings at about 400 locations nationwide from Wednesday.
Anyways, >>410, please listen to me. That it's really related to this thread.
I went to Yoshinoya a while ago; you know, Yoshinoya?
Well anyways there was an insane number of people there, and I couldn't get in.
Then, I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had "Now serving ostrich meat!" written on it.
Oh, the stupidity. Those idiots.
You, don't come to Yoshinoya for ostrich, fool.
It's a gyūdon chain. Gyūdon as in beef bowl, for crying out loud.
There're even entire families here. Family of 4, all out for a taste of exotic poultry, huh? How fucking nice.
"Alright, daddy's gonna order the ostrich bowl." God I can't bear to watch.
You people, I'll give you a ticket to the zoo if you get out of those seats.
Yoshinoya should be a traditional place.
That timeless atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can eat the same gyūdon they would've had a hundred years ago,
the down-to-earth Japanese mentality, that's what's great about this place.
People just seeking novelty should screw off and stay home.
Anyways, I was about to start eating, and then the bitch beside me goes "I want the ostrich cosmetics."
Who in the world wants ostrich cosmetics, you moron?
I want to ask her, "do you REALLY want to rub reconstituted ostrich lard on your face?"
I want to interrogate her. I want to interrogate her for roughly an hour.
Are you sure you don't just want to try saying "ostrich cosmetics"?
Coming from a Yoshinoya veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us vets is this, gyūdon facemasks.
That's right, gyūdon facemasks. This is the vet's method of skincare.
Gyūdon facemasks means potentially getting green onion in your eyes. But on the other hand the beef fat does wonders for your pores. This is the key.
And then, it's completely rejuvenating. You'll look ten years younger.
However, if you do this in the restaurant then there's a danger that everyone will just think you're an extremely messy eater; it's a double-edged sword.
I can't recommend it to amateurs.
What this all really means, though, is that you, >>410, should just stick with generic store brand moisturiser.
So, here’s the setup: my wife’s entire family gets together every year for a big holiday dinner at her parents’ farm in Florida. It’s a huge place—think barn turned airplane hangar, complete with a movie theater setup because my father-in-law is a tech enthusiast with two planes parked right there. Yeah, it’s as bougie as it sounds.
After a massive dinner (lots of beans were involved—critical detail), we all gather in the barn for movie night. My father-in-law suggested Oppenheimer because he couldn’t stop raving about how the sound system would “blow us away” during the bomb scene. Now, my wife’s family is ridiculously hygienic—like, they’ve probably got hand sanitizer brands on speed dial—so everything is always prim, proper, and pristine.
Anyway, we’re all seated in these fancy recliners, bellies full, and the movie’s dragging on a bit for my taste, but I’m being a good sport. Then comes the moment—the Trinity test. My father-in-law had hyped up the sound system so much that I literally braced myself, hands over ears, expecting to be launched into a sonic apocalypse.
But here’s the kicker: the bomb goes off, and…silence. Absolute cinematic silence.
Meanwhile, I, thinking this was my cover, let out the mother of all…releases. We’re talking long, echoing, unapologetic. I was so confident the explosion would drown me out, but NOPE. I quickly realized my mistake when I removed my hands from my ears and saw my wife’s face of pure horror.
Her mom looked like she just watched me bomb Hiroshima. My father-in-law? Oh, he was laughing his ass off, which honestly made it worse. The cherry on top? This family is so over-the-top about cleanliness that I basically committed war crimes in their sacred space.
Now, I’m lying in bed, my wife is still mortified, and I’m debating whether I’ll be banned from the next year’s gathering. Moral of the story: never trust Christopher Nolan to cover your “mistakes.”
ngl the extra large with extra sauce is pretty good.
I want (ヽ´ん`) to be added to the corner of the screen every time
65 Program is still in progres
