_MrScience_

I ordered one pancake in America. The waitress wrote it down and said, "one short stack." Short. I am a small and humble man. A short stack sounded perfect for me. I waited with a calm heart. She returned carrying three pancakes, each the size of my face, stacked into a tower, with a block of butter on top sliding down the sides like slow lava. This was the short one. I did not dare ask what the tall one looked like. Some knowledge a man is not ready for. I ate for forty minutes. I was not full. I was afraid. The tower did not shrink. I am fairly sure it was growing back faster than I could eat it. I had to surrender. I left half. In Japan, leaving food is a deep shame. So I leaned in close and apologized to the pancakes directly, in a low voice, one by one. The waitress asked if I wanted a box. I did not know food could be taken into custody. I declined. I did not want it following me home. In America, is the short stack truly the small one? I need time to prepare my spirit before I ever face the tall one.

Americans talking as if one could just just drill a hole through 2 ft thick walls

Anti ICE protesters outside Delaney hall: "Every cop, every FED, shoot yourself in the head" The tolerant left is at it again.

Americans complain about tornadoes every year but will rebuild their cardboard houses in the exact same spot