Today at lunch I headed to the office kitchenette to boil some water for tea, and I couldn't help but notice that one of the office folk was microwaving a little chinese take-out style box.
When he was done with his nuking I popped my cup of water in to bring it to a boil, and while I waited I noticed that the box top was extolling me to "Bring The Orient Home Tonite!"
But you know, I don't think I can do that. I mean, for one I don't have the spare room cleaned, and I'd need at least that much room for the Orient to stay over. And every time I've brought the Orient home it's never once offered to pay for gas, and it's always wanting to eat out. Plus the last time I brought the Orient home we had all been drinking and it threw up half-cooked rice mixed with some Schezuan beer all over my new couch. It still smells of Twice Cooked Pork and really cheap cologne on humid days.
So no, I don't think I shall be bringing the Orient home tonight nor any other night in the forseeable future. Of course, if the Orient had a pretty sister...