Occidental Purist


Ah ha ha. Ha ha. Ha. Ahahahahahaha. Someone please stop me before I laugh so hard my spleen, pancreas, and other assorted members of my viscera dislodge themselves and make their way out of my body via portals that would rather not allow them egress.
These capricious Snapple snippets shatter my long-held romantic notion of a tiny Chinese village whose sole industry is based on every aspect of the fortune cookie manufacturing process. And the perky references to popular greasy fare — dishes that are as close to authentic Chinese food as Snapple is to real tea — leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
Oh, what would Confucius say!

Why yes, I have written about fortune cookies before. You can read that entry here.