Denny's Diner

have you ever noticed that the second half of the word broccoli sounds eerily like “collie”?

and that collies have famously helped people who have fallen in wells. 

“wells” rhymes with “yells”. 

that’s what people do when they are trying to get help.

and you know what? yell is how the super cool kids shorten the word yellow, like in “that banana is totally yells”

this is where it gets weird guys. yellow has two “ll”s.

you know what word also has two “ll”s?

broccolluminati

are you paying attention?

are you seeing the signs?

stay vigilant, stay in school.

The mafia is pretty scary but have you ever dealt with the coffia?

DEN TRAP

Oh yeah, that’s a great looking purebread. 

teslas-pigeon:

dennys I saw this tragedy this morning

this is 2 sad, a true bumzo 

under the microscope: the grand slamoeba

you know that feeling when you are a denny’s restaurant and someone asks you to prom and you end up going anyway even though you are clearly a diner but whatever it’s cool but you’re a bit nervous while you’re getting ready, making sure your tux-e-dough looks just right and that you got the right color corsausage or butternniere and worrying that your cucumberbun makes you look classy not tacky or that the lemonzine driver isn’t a weirdo nut and that you brought enough bread for all the expenses and that most of all by the end of the night you’ll be smoothie enough to slow jam beneath the crisco ball and dream that a diner could be crowned prom royalty? um, you know that feeling?

I’m being stalked.

By the abroccolypse.

embrace your uncomfort zone, have another bite

embrace your comforter zone, eat breakfast in bed

embrace your mumford zone, eat out of a silly rustic hat

embrace your sunburn zone, fry an egg on the sidewalk

embrace your nuncomfort zone, buy a nun a milkshake

embraid your spaghetti hair, it is beautiful

encase yrr slumber phone

embray u uncle cone

chambray t-shirt boat

brace yr blanket fort

syrup face ansel elgort

enbrase yoru uncomfter zon e

someone left this fork in the road. forgotten cutlery? a sign of some cosmic understanding? a purposefully placed metaphor? day in day out we tread into the world hungry and directionless, searching for meaning in the mundane, extraordinary in the every day, and this fork glinting on the asphalt, singing to us the possibility of splitting into an entirely new course, an open road of possibility, or at the very least a free piece of silverware to add to that bag you keep all the weird things you’ve found on the ground, that bag you never wash. why would you pick this fork up off the road? adventure, my friend, adventure.

lewshifer:

Last nights sunset at work :)

wavy

pssst. did you know there’s a whole counter culture they don’t want you to know about? when they just stick you in the booth expecting you to not notice? wake up, sheeple. i’ve seen the documents and you wouldn’t believe who’s involved. nasa, the finnish government, the jonas brothers. open your eyes. what do you see? another set of eyes? cause you’re in a booth, man! eating face to face without even questioning the system. but our time is coming. there will be an uprising from the booths, an exodus to the counter culture. i can see it in my third eye. no more booths, just counters. more counters than you can count. with individuals swiveling on bar stools, unfettered, side by side, free. oh no. i’ve said too much.

what on earth is this dude’s life

when you wait last minute to do your staxes