Two straight nights of chicken with my graduate school friends. I have to say that food is a strong motivation in graduate school. That and my obvious lack of a unique, potentially lucrative skill set (like drawing or computer programming or schmoozing), more than anything else. I shouldn't even be eating because I didn't perform very well this week. I did a total 360 and played like LeBron in the fourth quarter when I got to the second part of my test. (That is a basketball reference, basically LeBron James plays like a little bitch baby in the fourth quarter of many crucial games. He's a great player but when he chokes, he chokes hard.)
As for the food, I have to say that Flaming Wings is infinitely better than Bon Chon. I get it. I get the paper thin skin that comes from a double fried chicken but Bon Chon chicken is not flavorful enough. Good chicken, definitely, but not something I'd choose over, say, Jollibee. Flaming Wings wins it in the wings department (I had a standard 3-pc. Chicken Wings (Soy Garlic) set in Bon Chon, 135php), it comes out cheaper (their Buffalo wings are sold for 147php, six pieces) plus they have more options and they have bigger servings too. Bon Chon Taft, in particular, is a little poor in frontline service. Perhaps it was because we came in at ten and the staff was just sleepy and tired so the cashier acted like she wanted to be slapped in the face. Still, something has to be done. I never complain about service but this store needs to work on theirs.
GF, University Mall
Taft Ave., Manila
__________________________
By the way, I stole a couple of photos from my classmate, Jay. Also, I really look dopey in real life. I have a particularly pathetic look on my face and I hate it. Add it to my lack of physical aptitude and a general gift of bad luck and you have a girl whose daily life is made up of tiny disasters. It adds up, you know, and it's disturbing to be so out of it most of the time that if I were a T.V. producer and my life was a show, I'd write my character off my own show. (Looking at you, Courtney Cox) /end of self-loathing.
