Comments on: Ville Memories: Why I Don’t Eat Chicken On A Stick

By: Misuchan

Misuchan — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 23:19:01 +0000

I’ve always wondered about that kimchee thing. But for some reason I don’t care, and I still eat it everyday anyways. I just reassure myself and my coworkers with “that’s why we have immune systems.”

By: ChickenHead

ChickenHead — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 16:59:50 +0000

Uhhh…

The bread… hmmm…

The 500 pound, third generation immigrant and his 700 pound sister were soaking it in beef tallow and eating it with a side of pork lard?

…while the meatballs were made of the cardboard boxes?

Oh, wait… they were Italian, not Chinese.

Nevermind.

By: Richardson

Richardson — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 15:10:39 +0000

Reminds me of a job I had when I was 15 at an Italian restaurant, run by a third generation immigrant (500 lbs) and his sister (~700 lbs).

Salad and bread went with every meal. After the meal we were told to put the leftover bread into some cardboard boxes in the corner of the kitchen.

Every week (Tuesday, I think) they would make the meatballs. If you know about making meatballs, you can guess where the dried bread went.

By: GI Korea

GI Korea — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 08:08:05 +0000

jb,

I did not see any when I visited recently but I did not stop by all the clubs in the ville either.

By: jb

jb — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 19:26:21 +0000

does anyone know if the russian juicy girls have returned to TDC? i keep hearing that

By: The Florida Masochist

The Florida Masochist — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 17:30:59 +0000

GI,

You have me thinking if there was another motive for the Lotte hotel to keep feeding me salisbury steak during my stay there in 1989. LOL.

Cheers,

Bill

By: mcnut

mcnut — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 17:14:22 +0000

i always assumed that they reuse kimchee and other side dishes that are left after a meal as well

its all mass stored in large containers so once they clean up they take the left overs and dump them back in

By: theequalizer

theequalizer — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 16:19:15 +0000

About 5 years ago I was in the bush of Africa on business. After about 2 weeks there I got an extreme urge for chocolate. I asked my African colleague if there was any chocolate available. About a 4 hour drive later we came across this small shop that sold mainly European and American products. As I was taking my $3 Mounds bar to the shopkeeper for payment, I knocked over a $15 jar of grape jelly. I apologized and offered to pay for it. The shopkeeper refused my offer to pay for it. His wife carefully put the jelly into another jar and put it back on the counter.

By: ChickenHead

ChickenHead — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 15:04:58 +0000

So a guy walks into the bar and says, “I can’t believe this siht. This is way fukced up.”

He holds out his yaki man-do bag fabricated from some kind of Osan printout.

I took a quick look and saw a name and a social security number.

“Cool, dude,” I said. “Let me write that down and we can get a credit card. I want one of those five thousand dollar Live Dolls. I’m gonna dress her as Little Bo Peep and surround her in my living room with a flock of blow-up sheep. What are you gonna order?”

He looked at me and shook his head. “No, man. You don’t understand. That’s ME!”

“Wow. That IS fukced up. Does this mean I’m not going to get the sheep?”

True story.

By: Dan

Dan — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 13:48:45 +0000

Ahh, the Ville. Too many stories. I was a Ville Rat at AnJung-ri in the 80s and early 90s. I remember this one crusty NCO trying to PCS, but his orders were AWOL. His CO told him to bring him A copy of his orders as soon as they arrived. That night he goes down range, has a couple and then goes to get some yacky man-do. Back on camp and walking to his quarters, he looks at the bag of man-do and see’s that the bag is composed of copies of his orders. Next day, the CO has a bag of man-do sitting on his desk. I thought that was special.
Then the Korean girl losing money at the slots. She was given the money by my COs brother, also a CO. Having that little bit of info was very helpful in expediteing some request.

Ahh, the bad ole days. Sometimes I miss them.