It is on this melancholic note that Culinary Abortions from Japan must come to a sudden, dire end.
Readers will be saddened, or perhaps relieved, but they will not be surprised–for there is no greater offense than to sully the palatial easel of ice cream with octopus ejecta.
The fact that there is a market for this pure abortion is more depressing than CROCS brand shoes, Japan’s immigration policy, or an afternoon of watching synchronized swimming.
But these comparisons aside, the writer, although not abandoning the pen, must for obvious reasons pictured above, pursue voluntary deportation.
As a final note, thank you for your continued support and interest in Culinary Abortions. Such a fine readership as you has given me hope for the kitchens of tomorrow and the betterment of today. Together, we can stop these gustatory injustices from invading our homes and communities. May you now take guard against these very insults in your day-to-day life.
And please do not let these posts deter you from visiting Japan; it is a country filled with honest people and with something amusing (as you can see) for almost everyone. Just remember– if you do visit, brown-bag your lunches and vehemently avoid any store called
- Family Mart