up in yer crawl space..

near shoe hovel, the ganzo strait outta hokkaido sits. 'tis a tiny place, wit barely enough room to get yer elbows up onna counter. shoe hit this place up for some lunchin'.

shoe was a-ready to git the miso, seein' as it was a hokkaido B an all, but then he changed his mind.. ganzo is soo small, >how small is it?<, it's soo small that shoe hadta go ootside to change his mind YOK YOK HARRR. ahh.. well there wan't any miso left actually but neva mind, ASS.

so shoe hit the loaded shoyuu, an' the boogers runnin the pans got busier. they wuz all a-shufflin' round the closet, gettin in and oot of each other's way, slappin it all together. ya kinda gets the feelin' theyre makin' it up as they go along, but 'oo knows?

not much to say about the B itself, fellas. curly yellow noodlin', wee bit too much moyashi, nabad egg. everythin standard issue, not too flavafull, not too bland, went down ay-yight. thats two B's in a row now!

three frontier outposts for the ganzo.

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a quickie

Shoe turned right, when he oughta shoulda turned left. he walked a ways, searching, yearnin'. the call had come, an it was sayin' "get some food in yerself, quicklike." no time for gettin' all a sit down an loiterin', but yet too much time to just grab one o they dodgy sang-wiches from the conbini. whats a poor shoe ta do?

set hisself up wit a hakata B, thats what. the marukin, in the kiba. this was a flash grab an dash bowl, which is pretty easy to do wit the skinny noodles n all. as far as hakata bowls go, it was in the upper meh range, not exactly dy-namic or a-mazin. shoe did sqeak in a kaedama none-the-less, jus cos.

three fillin' stations for the marukin.

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