Within Aberdeen Centre, there are countless chinese herbal medicine shops. I’m not into it, but my mom is. And so are all of her friends. And so are most asians. But not me.

When I was little, my mom used to torture me and my brother by making us drink weird herbal concoctions. Dark, brown, disgusting cup fulls of liquid made from crock potting sliced antlers, roots, and who the hell knows what else. We dreaded it. It first started because my bro and I were pretty scrawny little kids. She wanted to put some meat on our bones so she made us drink some of this crap. She’d also try to shove it down our throats when we got sick. And if you get some kind of terminal illness, they’re all about using these to cure whatever ails you. Does it work? No idea, but I found them to be foul and tried to avoid it at all costs. Crazy thing is that it’s mad expensive. So if someone gives you this stuff as a gift, they’ve spent tons of money on you. And you’d feel bad not using the stuff. But man, does this stuff taste terrible.
Cure-all or not, I’d rather not subject myself to this stuff. Billions of chinese can’t be wrong, but please asian parents, please don’t torture your kids. They’ll always remember it!

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