Gugus
Nobody knows where Gugu Gaga come from. They just appear — in boxes, under stalls, packed into steamer baskets at dim sum restaurants like they were always meant to be served that way. Small and round, penguin onesies permanently worn, little collar clips at their necks and real stubby tails poking out the back. They are sold. They are ordered. They arrive at your table still warm from the steam. They cannot speak. Not one real word — only two syllables, in every pitch and combination imaginable. Gugu. Gaga. That is everything they have and somehow it covers everything they need. They have tails. The tails wag when they feel safe. Most of them never figure out what safe feels like.
About Gugus
Nobody knows where Gugu Gaga come from. They just appear — in boxes, under stalls, packed into steamer baskets at dim sum restaurants like they were always meant to be served that way. Small and round, penguin onesies permanently worn, little collar clips at their necks and real stubby tails poking out the back. They are sold. They are ordered. ...Read more