Critical Analysis of Four Shoppers in a Japanese Supermarket from the Perspectives of Their Disapproving, Estranged Mothers
These four shoppers were photographed in Yaoko Marketplace on 7 JAN 2011, between 7:00PM and 8:30PM, off the Keisei stop in Narita, outside Tokyo. The photos were mailed to their mothers with instructions to provide “brief, critical analysis” and to refrain, if possible, from “personal attacks.” Responses arrived surprisingly promptly, were translated with Google Translate, and are presented here unedited. Names have been changed.
While John is considering to buy a cake, please do not bend his neck like that. I bent back when he was just standing completely comfort standing that he is comforted that holds the dignity enough to refrain from, just to he are overshadowed. My stance on his feet, he can say that standing there for at least three minutes. I was staring at the pastry and either “grab” to pick up the tray down before continuing the configuration tool at this point John, and advice. The next time I’m at this point is not Dasa resigned from trying to persuade him “because he both have no” grab “before doing anything with the tool, all you need to pick up the tray. It seems that John’s aim in pastry. unless he has concrete plans to move his other hand carbohydrates just for his choice of carbohydrates for any distance, “to carry, I do not put him under register, to carry. Actually I am John, and that you are considering whether or not you choose not to eat sweets binge, “grab” to hold the tool either case, this picture I was ever nervous NIC know that the undercover man, or if you are watching him. I know this, that I just cried, it really – I’ll is not in bed now, do not cry later. I John seaweed chips, white rice, miso soup, natto palette, when you enter the room sitting on the floor of his room in a bag surrounded by four large bowl large bowls of the board will never forget Chi-cream sauce, Fri unopened containers. His countenance. His attitude that he had fallen from a great height, sort of on the floor, as he had fallen. I though we we still live in the same house, when I think I knew the day would already know each other, I felt. I was only partially correct – we do not live in the same house I did.
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Everything and everyone becomes so much more serious each year after graduating. And getting together with friends keeps getting harder.
I wanted, if nothing else, to see this phenomenon firsthand in an attempt to understand it from perspective removed from judgment.
You are not the summation of your past.
Monday is like touching a scalding hot seatbelt buckle. It’s dropping your toast, jelly side down or making toast and realizing you’re out of jelly. Monday is the opposite of bacon and the first cousin of black licorice.