Wednesday, February 12, 2003

Strange Form of Self-Punishment

I already know that the little lunch counter downstairs sucks. Everything I've ever bought there (save for the homemade chocolate chip cookies) is a puddle of flavorless grease crap. So when I buy something to eat there anyway, and it sucks, I have only myself to blame. I recognize this.

Still, why would you put my buffalo chicken wrap; fully assembled; complete with lettuce, tomato, and blue cheese dressing, on the grill so the lettuce gets brown and the dressing gets ooky?

That's just wrong, man.

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