adventures with jollibee, continued.

Hi. I know some of you read this at work and would get in trouble for severe language, so don’t click the little “continue reading” after this sentence if you’re in (“urine!”) that kind of situation. I’m just going to post an email with some uniquely adult language.

Before I do, I should mention that I’ve been getting lots of nice email about Jollibee, its place in Filipino culture, why it’s better than McDonald’s (or McDo, as I’ve learned), and why it tasted so damn sweet. In fact, I’ve learned so much about the Philippines over the past week (including why I should be happy I didn’t have to try dinuguan or balut), that I’m really glad I had my Jollibee experience and wrote about it the way I did. Especially when I woke up this morning to find the following:

Subject: Hi you ignorant bitch i dare you to open me!!

Hey bitch cocksucking idiot did you know jollibee was the only local company that trashed Mc Do…putang ina mo BOBO….you obviously lack class and think of us filipinos as dirty half naked natives….well FYI at least we take a bathe thrice a day while you fucking bathe only when you cant take the crust forming on your CUNTS….at least you could have shown some respect but being an american you think the world is your doormat…..well anyway fuck you and eat your motherfucking red eye gravy……..JOLLIBEE FUCKED YOUR MOM…9 months Later you were born…..SO Shove MC DO and wendys up your ass……Your just angry because you lost your jobs when companies outsourced here in the PHILIppines!!!!!! gaga gago lintian ka……. You have a bounty on your head bitch….and you closely resemble my dog who’s butt fucking ugly!!!!! and PAMIE is a really ugly name…ill name my next TURD in your honor….[/readermail]

“Jollibee fucked your mom” is my new favorite insult in the world.

Well, the entire thing was meant to be an adventure in my backyard, as the Jollibee is about a mile from my house. And sure, I’ve exaggerated. You can tell by the pictures that nobody’s looking at us. It’s not like we Johnny Knoxvilled over there, Steve-O’ed creamy macaroni soup and then vomited all over the table. We ate a few bites out of curiosity, and then were disappointed to find we hadn’t discovered our favorite new fast food joint.

Laura and I were talking about this the other day. “You’re just like me,” she said. “When you see a place that most people would go, ‘What? What is that? I don’t want to try that.’ You go, ‘But what if ox-tail soup in a peanut butter pot is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I don’t know it? What if it’s my favorite food, and I’ve never tried it and all that’s stopping me is being a little scared of the fact that I can see a meat bone in some peanut butter?’”

“That’s exactly what I think,” I said. “I used to think I didn’t like fish. Because my mother told me I didn’t like fish. I hadn’t eaten fish. Once I tried it, being nice at stee’s mom’s house, I found out I love fish. I also didn’t know I liked sushi, Indian food, or Vietnamese food.”

“So why wouldn’t you think Jollibee was going to have the best cheeseburger in Eagle Rock? Look at the line outside!”

“That’s what I’m saying. And if I liked bananas in my ketchup, then Jollibee would have been the best cheeseburger in Eagle Rock.”

I went on to tell her about the history of Jollibee, and why it’s more popular than McDo over there.

“You have really learned a lot about your neighborhood.”

“I got an email from someone telling me that the next time I fly into her country, eat her food and leave, she’ll kick my ass.”

“She thought you went to Manila–”

“–to buy some folders.”

“Yes. She thought you flew there, ate at a Jollibee with your friends, and then flew home?”

“To which I say: ‘Thanks for reading. Your comprehension skills are amazing.’”

Tonight we’re going to a raw food restaurant. Look out, veggies. I might just bring my camera again.

Do you think vegan hate mail will talk about my cunt? My glorious, free-range, semi-bathed cunt?

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