Sometime in the past couple days I decided it was time to eat at one of those big buffets. Here's what I learned:

There are two kinds of chicken: fried chicken & sweet chicken.

If it's not fried, it's sweet. If it's not sweet, it's fried. In some cases (such as sweet & sour chicken) it's both. I don't care if you call it sesame chicken, teriyaki chicken (wait! that's not Chinese! but it's on the buffet!), honey chicken, or supercalifragilisticexpialidocious chicken. They are all sweet. Sweet, sweet, sweet. I shudder to think how much sugar these cooks are going through. No, I don't think it's just that one buffet I ate at. There is something going on with the fried stuff & the sugar stuff around here. A conspiracy? Donna said we could be doing the Chinese American version of Supersize Me. (We're not though. We're sensible like that.)

Oh, also: CHICKEN IS A CRUTCH! Get the chicken away from me! I don't want to eat any more chicken for months after I come home. Do you hear me? Months!


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