Since I’ll be on the road shortly, this will be my last “Weekly Weird” for a while. I have no doubt that they’re be strange things wherever I go, but maybe it needs some time off, too. I’ll be dropping in every so often with updates along the way, so feel free to stop in and have a look.
For now, here’s a final collection of the strange in Hangzhou.
I’ve talked about the smiling poop-like sausage called “Breakfast Sausage” before. That time, it was a smiling, albeit dubious-looking sausage link grinning at a sun. This time, what really caught my eye was a more serious poop-sicle. It had a stern face, furrowed eyebrows, and a red cape billowing behind it. As if in mockery of the Man of Steel, Superpoop had an “S” on its chest. Two very large fingers hold up this Justice League reject as it says something along the lines of “Keeping breakfast safe and making health better.” But I don’t know. Even in the plastic wrapping, I have to look again and again to make sure there aren’t any other nasty surprises, of not-so-heroic proportions. Because, if a meal is in danger, Superpoop is probably the last thing I’d call to help.
Collon, come here
This was another snack I saw that made me look twice. Not because there was anything overtly weird in the packaging, but because the name “Collon” was uncomfortably close to anatomy. The images on the outside included these toilet-paper rolls with rabbit ears smiling up at the buyer. They hopped around on the back, on the front, and I had to wonder why toilet-paper wafers had to move at all. So I was concerned, to say the least. Instead, when I opened the pastel-colored package with strawberries on it, I saw this rolled wafer-like sticks, which were surprisingly normal. I ate a few, waiting for some kind of kick, but it never came. Instead, it was a snack with a very poor choice in name. Good intentions warped when people like me take them for a spin.
Chipmunks for Sale
I found out what will happen with the Alvin and the Chipmunks franchise at last dies out. No, there will not be a nostalgia tour. No, there will not even be reunions where they sign pictures and reminisce about what it was like to have obnoxiously-high voices. They will be in China, and they will be sold as pets to anyone who wants them.
Maybe in this part of the world, owning a chipmunk as a pet isn’t all that strange. But for someone who saw them scurrying all over the yard on a daily basis, the last thing I would want to do is keep one in a little hamster cage and watch it attempt to be cute. All the same, I saw them in little cages outside of Wumart and there were children admiring them the same way we might look at puppies in the window back at home.
Maybe Alvin would get a second wind and reach star-dom all over again.
Oh, god, I shouldn’t even suggest it.
For my last Weird Random Thing, I decided to try “A Stick” snacks. Mostly because there was a monster on the front, and it looked cute, even with a wafer shoved into its mouth. This particular monster was chocolate-colored, had one giant eye, and was holding a brown and white-striped wafer-stick like a staff. I turned the cover over, and there were more monsters. “Coconut Boy,” “Cheese Girl,” “Vanilla Girl,” and “Peanut Boy.” But somehow, the chocolate man was missing. “Where did he go?” I wondered, trying not to look too deep into it. The monsters were all lined up with open, grinning mouths. Above, in slanted red words, read “Let’s Astick.” What did “astick” mean, actually? Was there some horrible secret going on in this clan? Suddenly, they didn’t look as cute, with their garish eyes all glaring at me, vacant grins likened to hunger.
“You know what?” I thought, “Let’s not astick.”