One thing about hanging out in Middle of Nowhere PA is that the only major restaurants here are the big chain restaurants. They got them all- Red Robin, Applebee's, Olive Garden, Outback Steakhouse. It's the place to be. Since I live in San Francisco, a city that has none of those restaurants within a ten mile radius of city limits (puh-lease, any true San Franciscan would never ever be caught dead going into one of those places) and since I never go to any of those places, all I want to do is eat there. Whenever my mother asks me where I want to eat, all I want to go to is Applebees. Unfortunately, Applebees is always too crowded. As is the Outback steak house, which is how we wound up at the Olive Garden tonight.

Not bad.

Did you know that every Olive Garden chef has attended a special Olive Garden culinary academy in Tuscany?

Right.

One more thing about being in Middle-of-Nowhere PA, all of the women that you see here usually fit into one of three categories- frumpy and dumpy, fat, or the big haired bimbo look. Occasionally, you'll even see some variation of the three (it's harder to tell which is worse, the frumpy looking fat one or the fat big haired bimbo- love 'em in skin tight clothes and tatooes). Because the great majority of women look like that, whenever you see a woman who doesn't look like that, who, in fact, is actually kind of attractive and cute in all the normal ways, it's such a relief. It's like when you listen to the local alternative radio and after hearing crap song after crap song, they play a brand new song that's really good. You're almost dumbfounded that somebody still writes songs like that and your faith is renewed in rock music.

When I see them, though, I want to go up to them and tell them to run. Get out of there. Split. Just leave now, I want to say, before you wind up sticking around and getting knocked up by some NASCAR loving mullethead. And leave now before you too become dumpy and frumpy, fat, or big-haired.

For God sakes, girls, save yourselves!