Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Restaraunt lament.

Hey.
Now, I don't have a whole lot of coherence or patience right now, but i figure I should try to talk about this one subject while I still have some energy left.

Okay so. You know restaurants? Good. Because if you don't this article is gonna be so confusing you're gonna be like "okay joey what the fuck are you talking about go to bed." and I'm gonna be like "Okay ill go to bed but hold on i need to write this post." and you'll just be sitting there not knowing what to do. So go learn about restaurants.

So anyway, instead of making dinner myself i decided to go to a place where i pay them to do that for me. So I went to a restaurant.
Right off the get-go i could tell that this wasn't gonna work for me. I was like standing there waiting to be seated or whatever and there was this guy with a wicked huge goiter leaving. I wanted to laugh but you know... I didn't. So anyway like five minutes later i was given the choice of sitting in a booth or you know... those holocaust chairs in the middle of the feed pavilion where the commoners feast on their slop and we get to watch or whatever okay okay so the point is i sat in the booth because the question she asked was rhetorical and we both knew it. anyway so then it was time for me to order a drink or whatever so i panicked and got lemonade. I am not sure if you guys found this out yet but restaurant lemonade is fucking disgusting but you drink it anyway because its so cold and what else are you going to drink horse spooge? Anyway about half a glass in my stomach started going on me but i didn't care because I'm tough n' shit okay? okay. So like a bajillion minutes later the waitress with the personality of a soap dish came back and i had to tell her what i was gonna order or else she was gonna like, go poof or something i don't know what waitresses do. So I panicked again and was like BUFFALO CHICKEN SANDWICH. Bad call, bad call. So anyway she was all FRIES? again with the rhetorical questions how do you even do that. Gravy? Fuck no. Get that gravy shit outta here i'm eating a hot wing burger what would i need gravy for? So... like... a lot of seconds later i lost count after the second bajillion so just cool it okay? I got my sandwich and some other shit happened and then i realized after i ate the damn thing it doesn't matter where you go to get a buffalo chicken sandwich its still just a giant piece of fried chicken slathered in satan's mucus between burger buns.

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2 comments:

  1. Yes you are going to to drink horse spooge. You are going to drink it ALL THE TIME.

    ReplyDelete