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on sheet masks and my general dorkiness.

There is a chain of drugstores here called Guardian. I call them ‘drugstores” in the old fashioned way, though they don’t have a pharmacist’s counter. For actual pain and suffering, you would go to a pharmacist. In Saigon, there seems to be at least one pharmacist on every block, a lot of them with an outdoor drive-up counter so one’s lazy ass doesn’t even have to hop off their motorbike to get their meds.  But for toiletries, make up, vitamins, and a wide and sometimes bizarre variety of Korean and Japanese products (including but not limited to soaps and moisturizer made with snail mucus, red ginseng, and garden variety collagen enhancing crap) you go to places like Guardian.

There’s one near my house, and I went there today to stock up on Korean sheet masks (I hear these are all the rage in the US right now, and Guardian sells them for less than 50 cents a mask. I use one almost every day; in fact, I’ve got a tea tree oil one on right now as I type this).  They also sell a limited…

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