Happy 250th Birthday America! 🎉 Tokyo is celebrating with you tonight with beautiful fireworks lighting up the bay and Rainbow Bridge plus Tokyo Tower glowing red white and blue!
It makes me so happy as a Japanese person to see this warm friendship. Real allies celebrate together like this.
God bless the USA and God bless Japan 🇺🇸🤝🇯🇵
@japan_nobunaga The 2nd is to put the power in people’s hands if they ever need to rise up and defend themselves from government or foreign adversaries.
The Chicken and Waffle Emergency Meeting
I ordered chicken and waffles because the name sounded like two separate meals having an argument.
Then the plate arrived.
Fried chicken.
On a waffle.
With syrup.
I stared at it.
The chicken looked confident.
The waffle looked trapped.
The syrup looked like it had caused problems before.
I asked the waitress,
“Is this breakfast?”
She said,
“Depends how strong you are.”
This was not an answer.
This was a threat.
I looked at the plate again.
Chicken belongs with lunch.
Waffles belong with morning.
Syrup belongs with pancakes.
America put all three together and expected me to act like the table was not legally confused.
I picked up the syrup.
My hand stopped.
Pouring syrup on waffle:
Normal.
Pouring syrup on chicken:
A crime in several emotional jurisdictions.
The man at the next table saw me freeze.
He said,
“Bro, drown it.”
Drown it.
America does not season food.
America declares floods.
So I poured.
The syrup landed on the waffle.
Safe.
Then it crossed into chicken territory.
No one screamed.
No police came.
The chicken simply sat there, accepting the syrup like it had been waiting for corruption.
I cut one bite.
Chicken.
Waffle.
Syrup.
My brain immediately called an emergency meeting.
Sweet was yelling.
Salt was confused.
Crunch demanded legal counsel.
Breakfast refused to sit next to Dinner.
Lunch said, “Why am I even here?”
Then my mouth raised its hand and said,
“Shut up. This works.”
That was the worst part.
It worked.
The waffle was soft.
The chicken was crispy.
The syrup was lying to both of them, but in a helpful way.
By the third bite, I was no longer eating.
I was watching enemies become roommates.
By the fifth bite, I understood the American system.
Do not solve conflict.
Put it on a plate.
Add syrup.
Charge $14.99.
The waitress came back.
“How is it?”
I wanted to say, “My government has collapsed.”
Instead, I said,
“It is peaceful now.”
She nodded like this happens often.
Chicken and waffles is not a meal.
It is breakfast and violence sharing custody of syrup.
I finished the plate with shame, respect, and minor maple damage.
NyanChuu will no longer fear impossible alliances.
If America puts ribs on pancakes and calls it a morning special, I will not ask questions.
I will simply request extra napkins and prepare for diplomacy.
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
@Pyrokittenxx The Castle is a historic, multi-level nightclub in Tampa's Ybor City, famous for its gothic, industrial, and alternative music scene, attracting a diverse crowd including goths, rockers, and cosplayers.
We can finally confirm, Orbitals will have a physical release with the full game on cartridge! 🚀
Please keep an eye on your local retailers to confirm availability.
You can find us on the Nintendo eShop in the meantime! 🙇💖
Step into this multiplayer action game as Bloodsworn,battle against up to 7 players as you hunt to secure the mysterious First Blood. The Duskbloods launches exclusively on Nintendo Switch 2 in 2026 with a closed network test coming soon! #NintendoDirect
Prepare for an adventure brought to life through magic and crystals, and fight alongside Visions of beloved @FINALFANTASY characters. FINAL FANTASY RESONANCE launches Oct 22 on Nintendo Switch 2 and Nintendo Switch. #NintendoDirect