oh Japan

All menus are gland menus if you think about it
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I remember the days; those barbecue dinners at the end of the summer, the days shortening gradually as summer gave way to fall. My dad would fire up the grill and cook a sizzling steak as I pondered the coming season, reflecting on the eternal passing of nature. We would eat the meal in pensive silence, drenching our food in "reccomendable" sauce. Those were good times.