In honor of this, I’m opening up my own restaurant:
Grill’s Night Out:
Served on a giant platter of clothing you tried on but decided not to wear tonight, this classic treat is a must-have for you and your friends. It’s just a small piece of grilled chicken squirted with truffle sauce mayo and garnished with pieces of lettuce to make us all feel better. Truffles! Look at all the truffles! You can get it on the side if your friend Keira is just gonna be that way about it. Jesus. It’s fine. We’ll get it on the side! But no, you can’t get it fat-free. Like, you’re out for one night and we all got together for this to just have fun and enjoy ourselves. Stop talking about SoulCycle and just eat the fucking salad, Keira. Look, there’s even a tomato on it. You already HAVE a bikini body, Keira, if you just put a goddamn bikini on it.
You don’t have to be a woman to have your period, and you don’t have to have your period to be a woman, but anybody under the sun will enjoy this giant tampon applicator filled with nacho cheese, peanut butter, pickles, and old slices of bread you just decided to say “fuck it” and toast with about seven pounds of butter. We’ll even go to your own fridge and fill it with all the little things you decided would satisfy your insatiable hunger craving, like little pieces of fat-free cheese and jelly on crackers and old capers in their jar. Feel free to throw the contents of this at those who are frustrating you. We won’t judge but we’ll duck!
Mac and Cheese Trough
A tiny, no-dressing salad is accompanied by a trough of mac and cheese. No utensils. You got here, now you lie in this bed.
Brunch for Dinner
One old egg, 20 bucks. Served overenthusiastically, with a splitting headache and you’ll have to ask a bunch of times, but somebody will finally bring you hot sauce.
Not really an alcoholic drink, just a large platter of sex tips AND a gigantic piece of salmon with a side of frissee and a stern warning about a growing problem that is happening to women RIGHT NOW and also a little quiz called “what kind of bitch are you” and a reveal of Selena Gomez’s favorite perfume for summer.
Giant Voodoo Doll Made of Baked Goat Cheese
You Name Him, We Curse Him! Nothing better than eating him away, cuz he certainly didn’t eat you in the entire three fucking months you hung out. Does that make you feel better? Here, here’s a knife to stab him in the gut. This will make you feel better. Also, the waiter will tell you that she thinks that Danny Castellano would probably want to date you in real life, if he were a real person. She will also take away your phone.
“The Internet Comment”
A seemingly harmless peanut butter and jelly sandwich turns into a lively battle of racist comments, sexist jokes, and horrifyingly graphic insults.
The “Fuck it, We’re At A Casual Dining Restaurant in America”
A mountain of fried potatoes, smothered in horrible bastardizations of food that used to mean something to an entire people and their culture, like sashimi and pierogis and pieces of your grandmother’s eggplant parmesean. AMERICA-FIED by just being pummeled to death by butter and various kinds of cheese. Exciting! This comes in a hollowed-out television.
The Big 2-5 Sammich
Grow up, man. It’s called “sandwich” now. You’re a fucking adult. Smothered in crippling self-doubt, this sandwich will fill you up with bullshit literary analysis but will still keep you underemployed.The sandwich will compliment you and praise you while you’re eating it, then steal all your money and shove you in a tiny apartment afterwards, with nothing but whiskey and Buzzfeed lists to satiate you, you human scum. Costs thousands of dollars but you receive a complimentary piece of paper after the meal.
No grammar, just a large Tom Hiddleston sheet cake that brings up a particularly rowdy conversation about feminism and eyebrows. Topped with a fedora and we let cats just walk all over this one.