This guy has been advocating for this brand like crazy recently but as someone who discovered it like two years ago he’s not wrong, they are comparable with chic fil a, they’ve got spicy strips too which go crazy hard. And the macros are good according to my homies
This is probably b/c you can just make Chic Fil A’s food in your own kitchen now for a fraction of the price
Just Bare & Kirkland might put them out of business to be honest
I never understood painting the bottom of the pool to begin with, if they wanted it to reflect then a successful job would mean you don’t see the bottom, no?
A Washington Post analysis found that the reflecting pool contains more algae than at any point recorded in June over the past five years.
https://t.co/GCafu9elLY
The thing is, if you're not depicting "the outcast" as being a pariah for unfair reasons (being fat, autistic, poor, non-white, queer, mentally ill, etc) then it just comes off like they're an outcast because they're an asshole who thinks they're better than everyone else
The Always Sunny episode was incredibly not transphobic lmfao, have you actually watched it. The entire joke of the episode was that she was a normal woman living a normal life and the gang were the weird ones for not accepting that
It was two in the morning, the hour when even the bravest samurai retires to his bedroll, yet here, a fortress of light beckoned me from the darkness.
Every castle I have ever known has fallen. Fire, siege, taxes. Eight hundred years of my family learning one lesson: nothing stays open forever.
This house has never closed.
Not for storms. Not for holidays. Not for the hour when even the moon looks tired. I asked the waitress when they lock the doors.
"We don't have locks, hon."
No locks. I own walls, moats, and a sword older than this country, and I have never once said anything that powerful.
Inside, a cook was scraping the grill at 2 a.m. with the calm of a man guarding something. I asked if he was the night watch.
"I'm Darnell."
A trucker two stools down raised his coffee. "Place stayed open during the hurricane," he said. "FEMA's got a whole index about it."
An index. The government of this nation measures disasters by whether THIS HOUSE is still standing. In Japan, we measured a clan's strength by its castle. Same thing. Theirs serves waffles.
I ordered. I ate. I confess what happened next.
I did not want to leave. The night outside was large. The booth was warm. I am a grown warrior, and I sat in a yellow fortress at 3 a.m. feeling protected by hash browns.
A castle does not promise to stand forever. It simply leaves the lights on.
I drive past at night now. Just to check. The lights are always on.
Sentries of the griddle — I see you. Hold the line.
USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving.
Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free.
I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these."
"They just come with the table, man."
They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner.
This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat.
I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared.
"Did we…?"
"Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless."
Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined.
My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude."
Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man.
I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy.
Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived.
I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most.
Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.
Gringo is pretty specificity Mexican parlance I think, most people in South America say yanqui (thanks snowfall), which I honestly fw more than yankee lol