You know what really grinds my gears?

Chinese restaurants. I can NOT stand the fuckin' inconsistency of these kung fu fighting, fried rice slingin' bastards with their strange Asian ways and porno about people pooping in bathtubs. They all remind me of that time I joined that Asian drug ring.

  

See, I had a favorite chinese restaurant when I was in high school called Lee's Dragon (yeah, real original, right? That's like opening a steakhouse and calling it Chuck's Norris.) I loved that place. I loved the food, I loved the atmosphere. I even loved the cute little way the waitress would fall for it every time I shoved her boob in my mouth and told her it was a customary American greeting.

And then came July 16th, my senior year, the last day I ate at Lee's Dragon. I had my customary titty suck, followed by pepper steak, fried rice, and six egg rolls. The next day I pulled into the parking lot, and it had become a goddamn baby consignment shop. What the crap, man!

I though "Okay Peter, okay, no reason to panic. There's Jimmy Chan's right down the street." So I went to Jimmy Chan's, and everything TASTED different. What the hell is up with that? The fried rice didn't have eggs in it! The pepper steak was bright red and as rubbery as a horse condom! And the egg rolls were skinny and had Bacos in them! Fuckin' Bacos!

That week I went to ten different Chinese Restaurants looking for one that tasted like Lee's Dragon and went away each time with a belly full of Chinese food... and bitter disillusionment. It reminds me of that time I took a bus tour through Chinatown



I have discovered a horrifying truth. There is no set flavor for Chinese food. It's like their eyes are so slanted they can't read the fuckin' recipe so they just throw in anything with a label large enough to read. I swear one time my Moo Goo Gai Pan had a Midol in it.

This makes no goddamned sense. When was the last time you went to a frickin' McDonalds and had a burger that didn't taste like a McDonald's burger, eh? You ever buy a classic double at Wendy's that tasted like a Whopper? Of course not, 'cause this is America, Wong Fu, where conformity is cherished, goddammit!!

My name is Peter Griffin, and this really grinds my gears.