Night Out - Part Two (IHOP)


Restaurant, I command you!  Appear in front of me!
- No, no traction. 
- What do you mean No?
- No.  No traction. We have to go now.
- I knew it when the party-guy told me, the third prince.  
- The black sheep of royalty, in a dive bar.
- The guy with the long hair—no hairy guy requires long hair, especially when he's headbanging to songs that don't get headbanged.
- Do you still require the Del Taco?
-Will you shut up!  I'm self–rea...I'm fuckin Buddha man—hey, do you have to take orders from me?
- Yes.
-Oh man, fuggedaboudid! Let's just hang out.  I got lots of interestings—you can leave them on doorstep, I'm not going to lie if they get eaten—you know if you walk into an established business and pretend you're retarded, you can just walk around the warehouse and they closely monitor you with warm hearts
- Oh, charmed.  I can identify with the ...
-affinity
- Yes, yes  
- of the long haired dude,  Oscar
- of... You know I've never wandered this long talking to products and being ignored...

- What's that you say? Utem kez?    No, don't hold me back, no don't hold me back....she's fucking with me...or at least someone is,
- Hey, clear the asile, this guy breaks down barriers
- I'll kill the sort of them!  Utem kez, huh? (Spits)
- What are these peanuts doing here?  Get them out. He's going to call them low-brow.  Get them out, all of em, yes, honey roasted, yes—what did I just say? Call the cashew guy.
- Cashew guy's not going to like that.
- (another voice) I heard that guy writes poetry about slumber.
- Fuck the cashew guy—call the cashew guy.
- I'll kill the lot of them!  I'll kill all sorts of them
- How's he on chapstick?
-That's good initiative Ralph—Bruce, whatever.
- I've killed a million people.  I'm killing you right now.
- Oh man, he's set
- (turns around) Let me tell you something...
- Oh no, he's dangerous 
-...Bitch
- Oh no
- Boob.
- He might be getting drowsy
- IHOP
-IHOP?
- Let me tell you something,  I eat.  And you get eaten.
- Don't do it, man.  You're too hardcore.
- ...Cause you're so fuckin delicious!
- He did it. He fuckin did it.  I hate him!  I hate him again!  Guy broke out into dance. Cancel the cashews.
- Cashew guy's not going to like that.
- Fuck the cashew guy—cancel the cashews.

IHOP

let me check out the crowd, see if it's trendy enough...oh yea, there's porn and then there's porn.  Half the staff is asleep in the showcase booth.  I don't get how these guys do that, sleep with their heads back sitting upright.  I wouldn't want to be jailed anywhere that doesn't respect the fetal position.


- Coffee?
- Might as well.

I'm going to work today at 7am.  I' done blogging for today.  That's it, I'm done. Something doesn't feel right when it's too much—well, unless it's—look, I like you, but obviously my em dashes, I don't know, are in some kind of disorder.

Okay, that's it!  I know it, you know it...and vegtable lasagna here knows it.  I told guy I wanted to spend a couple hours here, and he gave me a look like Sexy Look #6, but I meant it...well i think i did


Do you want to hear my order at least?

Well, this whole month, I found myself, in some part of me, quietly bemoaning how November doesn't really feel like November anymore.  Halloween hasn't felt like Halloween for some time now, but I've realized it's because I don't watch much TV anymore and people in our neighborhood don't interact much—oh man, my stomach has shrunk, i do kind of have en effective diet, a soup, a soup killed me, the rest is just trying to appeal to lust or imulse—they don't interact much, so...so if they're enthusiastic, it's voluntary.  

November, though—November is November.  Kings were born in November.  Songs have been written using "November" in the title.   November originated in Africa.  People like November, because it's nice.  November is forever a cucumber. And actually, people like saying the word November because it sounds good in their ear.  Albert Camus was born on Nov. 7, i think.  Wrestling pay-per-views take place in November.

And let me tell you something: whatever people say about Americans—oh man, I didn't know bland turkey could have such a noxious odor, I'm wondering if it's safe for the dogs—the French, let me tell you something about the French: Louie went kablooey, my friend. Louie went kablooey.  Whatever you say about America, all is forgiven over Thanksgiving dinner, and then you learn to fall in love again all week through the leftovers—oh man, i know i've been saying oh man a lot but this thing's a nuclear bomb.  It smells like what I imagine liver tastes like.  It makes rotten eggs blush.  I know L.A's full of healthy bland, but I didn't know they were going to make me drink the punch.  I've become so jaded I don't appreciate my food...but not this one.  This one came with an industrial mask.  
I'm not going to complain.  I'm not that type of consumer.

 Anyway, Thanksgiving.  Crazy about side dishes.  Turns out, it's not on the 24th.


I didn't want to waste the gravy.  guy gave me three types of gravy.  i only knew of one.  i opened the box to pour one in as fast as i could, but i had to close it, sit on it, and smile at the waiter

I was walking by a restaurant a couple hours ago Zono Sushi, I think, was where I caught it, and I fear there might be a gas leak..but this fuckin place has a bigger environmental issue.

I should call the city.  I will.  I don't know why I didn't earlier.  Just in case.  I'll just call 911.  Let them deal do some work

Lady, I don't know the street name.  If I knew it, I would have told you the first time...look, it was by the Hooters.  And Zono Sushi, which is next to Hooters, was where I caught a bigger whiff...I think.

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