... and I farted.
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
Sukiya beef bowl restaurant admitted to having a dead rat in miso soup
https://www.news-postseven.com/archives/20250322_2030810.html/2
>>417
Coming from a Sukiya veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us vets is this, extra dead rat.
That's right, extra dead rat. This is the vet's way of eating.
Extra dead rat means more dead rat than miso. But on the other hand the other patrons might look at you weird. This is the key.
And then, it's delicious. You just can't beat that tangy Streptobacillus flavour.
However, if you order this then there is danger that some journalist will write a hit piece about it; 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 Yoshinoya.
DQN from my Qin F21 cellphone!
Vengeance is a dish best served extra large, with extra sauce