A short story about Wendy's.

[cman37]

As stoners often do, I felt the pangs of hunger in a way that was familiarly painful. It was around 5, and I was about four blunts in. Sharing the sensation around me were Dave, Rick, and Sal. We were going on and on about something or other, probably Sal and his girlfriend, who sold us the shit. And by shit, I MEAN shit. I don't know where or how she grew this ditch weed, but we might as well have been smoking tobacco, a plant detest. Don't even mention it to me. I think weed's OK. It's not my LIFE, you know? I have my beautiful wife and son taking that position. But on weekends, I feel I've earned the right to kick back in a motel room and light up. Deborah knows about it. She always says "It's better than you doing something crazy". I tried to get her to smoke with us, once. She wasn't into it. Said she prefers good old gin. Anyways, we were bitching about the weed's weakness for another half hour before Sal finally fought back.
"At least I HAVE a girlfriend!" he protested, forgetting that he's the only one out of the four of us unmarried.
"Yeah, and she looks like fucking Dan Ackryod", snapped Dave. Rick piped in.
"There's a snake in that bush!", to which he fell back laughing. I couldn't take it anymore. My stomach was tearing up like childbirth.
"Fuck you guys. It's time to eat." As expected, everyone immediately gave their two cents about what we should at once.
"Pizza!"
"Fruit Salad!"
"Doritos!" This went on for fucking hours. Then someone finally made mention of something that made sense to my ever shrinking stomach.
"McDonalds!" I think that was Sal's idea, but I could be wrong. We climbed into my 1987 Pontiac and got the fuck out to Mickey Dees. But it was on fire.



So we went to Wendy's. And it sucked.

[DƎRDYPK]

say what?!

[ChronicJon]

say what?!

[dR3]

So this isn't a bot? LMFAO

[ChronicJon]

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So, I guess this belongs here