random thoughts to confuse and enlighten.

This document was recovered from the hidden vaults of the Grinsell Archives. Nothing has been changed or altered, what you read is up to you, but be prepared for widsom and confusion.

The clock rolls over. It’s 1 AM. You got that hunger. The pain, it won’t subside. You crave that one specific taste and nothing will do until you have it. You now have but one goal, one penultimate destination that every fiber of your being is called to: You have been summoned to Wendy’s.

If you haven’t experience the fast food wonderment that is Wendy’s all I can give to you is my most sincere condolences. The amount of joy that courses through my very being is immeasurable as I make my way down the highway, knowing that in a few short minutes I will be devouring a banquet of greasy goodness. I implore you, my dear reader, to live in squalor and poverty no longer, but to hasten your search for the splendorous bounty of Wendy and Dave Thomas.

I shall go where your fryness commands me.

First things first, any time spent planning or executing a Wendy’s run is time well spent. A second is never wasted thinking about the juicy freshly cooked delights that await a weary traveler as he stumbles out of the cold into the golden warmth of a Wendy’s. This is merely a guideline to acquire the most pleasant experience possible. As positive thinking should always fuel Wendy’s, and one should never go to Wendy’s strictly out of spite. In fact, Wendy’s should exist completely spite free, it just doesn’t go with Applewood Smoked Bacon.

To begin: You’ll want to plan a driver.

These two images were on the same page. Hmmmm...

I googled “chauffeur.” Apparently shutterstock believes driving cars requires you to be a light brown minority with sharp pointed mutton chop side burns and a pencil thin goatee. Who knew? I didn’t, but I do now.

The reason for the driver is so that you can focus all your attention on the feast at hand. It will require all your attention as it should be the only thing on your mind. Nothing else should cloud your conscience then getting your hands on those sea-salted fries. The person you appoint the duties of the driver to should be a seasoned Wendy’s veteran, ready to field all your Wendy’s related questions or concerns.

Skilled like this lady, but a lifelong expert of art of the Baconator.

On your way to Wendy’s be sure to point and laugh at all the other restaurant options that pale in comparison to the delicacy of Wendy’s.

In my personal situation, a White Castle to the west is visible from the parking lot of the Wendy’s. As if they intended to attract a specific group of people used to royal surroundings. Ain’t no royalty live in no White Castle! It’s the little redhead neighbor girl who knows how to tend to your hunger pains. The White Castle has been the unwilling recipient of many a sneer or look of disapproval as I cruise past to the land of the Baconator.

They truly are the less fortunate, and they deserve our scoff.

Although I could discuss the wonders of the Wendy’s for days, I have not the time or the space to do so. Finally, I leave you with this.

Be shameless.

When you have a date with Wendy, you two are the only people in the world. Remove yourself from these insignificant ideas of dignity and self-control. Get that Triple Baconator. Why not? You know what goes great with a Triple Baconator? A large fry with a gallon of Dr. Pepper. You bet it does. So what if the lady behind the window gives you a weird look as you pick up six Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers, this night isn’t about her. It’s about you, that meal, and the clear, crisp air that comes along the cool breeze of evening. Tonight, we’re getting Wendy’s.

Long Live... Russia I guess.

and that is how you fwaah.

-a

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