Legitimately just had one of the worst meals of my entire life. I am still sitting here, trying to come to terms with what I just put inside my body. The orange chicken was drenched in what I can only call a carcinogenic slime. It tasted like how bug spray smells. I felt myself actively eroding the more I ate, but shit, it was $16 bucks. I kept going in spite of myself. I should've known better. The chlorinated sauce seeped into every pore of the chicken's squishy exterior. Despite the uncooked batter bathing in liquid cum, the chicken itself was a dry, chewy muskrat texture, one that forced you to choke up even the smallest pieces you dared to swallow. The honey sesame chicken was an ice-cold cat's tongue texture, and the associated veg was mildewy and wilted. If you could cook the flavor of rot into something, then that is what they managed to do to this food. I am not even joking, the chow mein tasted like a cigarette. I imagine they dumped an entire fucking bottle of liquid smoke into the noodle, with the intention of hurting and hopefully killing me. I can't imagine good, conscientious people making food like this. Everyone there was a hateful person. Maybe they weren't even people.
The only good thing I can say about this experience is that I learned something: a terrible lesson. Thank you, Panda Express.
