Another fond remnant of my childhood is gone. Ryan's Steakhouse in Lafayette has shut down. I don't know what it says about my childhood that it was partly defined by a dimly-lit buffet, but I am really mourning over this Paradise Lost. You see, Ryan's was like Britney Spears, if Britney Spears was covered in dark chocolate fudge. It's fascinating in a totally sick way, chaotic, trashy, and absolutely delicious. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but one time my brother got a plate full of butter and dived in thinking it was mashed potatos.
So in honor of Ryan's passing, I'm going on a hunger strike.
Kidding!
Tomorrow is my 18th birthday, and I'm going to pound down some General Tso's chicken from a Ryan's-level-of-seediness Chinese place like there's no tomorrow, and wash it down with a cute ice cream cake. Ah, gluttony has always been my favorite sin.
Oh, how I will miss thee
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