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Another Portland Blog

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

 

The anti-Thanksgiving

I never thought Portland would land an Asian mega-mart even larger and more exotic than the Beaverton Uwajimaya. Then along came Fubonn, an entire shopping mall devoted to all things west of the International Date Line. Fubonn is heads above its suburban neighbor in the weirdness department. Or at least the items that line the mall's shelves are weird for me. Despite my parents' best efforts, I spent the first ten years of my life living on Spaghetti Os and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. A gourmet, I am not.

While I'll be sticking with mashed potatoes and turkey this Thanksgiving (sweet potatoes? Cranberry sauce? Bleeeech.), I wonder if any of this stuff from Fubon will be making its way to area dinner tables tomorrow night.

OK, tying Fubonn to a Thanksgiving-related post is a stretch but these cell phone photos have been sitting on my server for months. I had to use them somewhere on this blog and this contrived post will have to do.




Champagne AND pop. Woooo, classy.




The FDA, the USDA and the Surgeon General may have not approved of these imported chocolates but they've received Dr. Cow's endorsement. If she's cool then we have nothing to worry about out. In hindsight, I should have bought ten boxes.




A free case of SARS in every bottle. Seriously though, I wonder if they sell Sarsi Root Beer in China. According to Wikipedia, despite the name, it's the number one selling root beer in the Philippines. It's also popular in Taiwan, where it's known as the "Coke of Taiwan." And now you know. The bottle I bought is sure to remain untouched in the back of my refrigerator for many years to come.




HA! HA! HA! Ding Dong Mixed Nuts! Can't...stop....giggling...like a third grader...watching Spaceballs....for the first time...




This energy drink is from Thailand. It cost 89 cents. If I drink the entire can in one sitting it may cause my heart to leap out of my chest and run around the room for several minutes before breaking a window and tearing across Portland like something out of a Takashi Miike movie. If you never see another blog post here, you'll know the reason why. Also: if you hear something scratching at your back door this holiday weekend, whatever you do, don't open it. It could very well be my heart, hepped up on the Thai equivalent of Red Bull and itching for trouble.

If the energy drink doesn't do me in, I'll be back around these parts on Monday. Until then, think about the fate of poor ol' Harold when you're sucking down turkey tomorrow, you evil meat eater, you. And all the indigenous people that were wiped out to make way for your suburban split level and that adorable hybrid parked in the driveway that does little to cut emissions or save the planet. And about how obesity is national epidemic and the meal you're eating could probably feed thirty people in the Romanian village Borat exploited. And about how our gluttony and lifestyles will be the death of us all. And about how the helium used in the gigantic balloons featured in Macy's annual parade is probably hurting...something or another, possibly NYC's sewer rat population. Remember, Thanksgiving isn't just about taking a moment to realize how lucky and blessed you are but also gorging yourself on guilt, guilt and more guilt.




With that, a happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good night!

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