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Shades of the Fukyu Japanese restaurant in midtown in the Seventies. A source of considerable amusement to lunching office drones such as myself, until the name was cleverly changed to a different Japanese word, Furyu, with a single stroke of paint.
We've seen this sort of thing before.
That's what I've been calling Obama for the last five years...
You should hear a Thai conversation. It's krap this, krap that, krap everywhere. Not at all appealing to Western sensitivities.
As an adult, Obama has shortened his childhood nickname to fukup.
It's no Kikkoman.
A cute little egg guy who'd like to interest you in buying a freezer.I'm not sure what a flying egg has to do with a freezer, but at least it looks radioactive, so there's some truth in the advertising.
I still don't know how I didn't lose it while correcting a cute young Japanese Junior High School student's "penis butter" in front of the entire class. I know I'm going to heaven for that. Peanut Butter. Peanut Butter.
There are a chain of Thai restaurants in our area called Phuket Thai. They have signs to point out that the word is pronounced Poo-ket.
It looks way worse in English transliteration than it sounds in Japanese. The egg says, "Pleased to meet you! I'm fu-KOO-PEE."
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