The Diner of the damned........
By repomen79
Its not quite clear, what we're eating here, The cooks in a bad mood. It don't look good, Nobody would, Exactly call it FOOD. So many sit, we hardly fit, The room is really crammed. But its alright, Its always tight, In the diner of the damned. We contemplate, our daily fate, And pray for Taco Bell. A piece of steak, would surley make, The day go pretty well. But no indeed, They always feed, Us things out of a can. Soups and stews that no one veiws, As food fit for a man. Powdered eggs, and chicken legs, Fruit cocktail, What a treat. If that don't suit, they'll substitute, That ol familier lunch meat. If you want a meal, and really feel, That your stomache has been slammed. You better pray, you don't eat today, In the diner of the damned.For all my hungry brothers and sisters out there in the Land of institutional dinning. snackin at the mac shac and lusting for lasagnea Written April 6th, 2002 © on Apr 06 2002 02:36 AM PST, Patric Patterson 18 • 0 • 14
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"Its not quite clear, what we're eating here,..."