Applebee's Quotes

GUESS WHERE I AM. CLUE? she texted back SWEAR U WON'T TELL A SOUL? U HAVE 2 ASK? I reluctantly texted,@ DINNER W. MARCIE'S DAD. #?@#$?!& MY MOM IS DATING HIM. TRAITOR! IF THEY GET MARRIED, U & MARCIE... COULD USE A LITTLE CONSOLATION HERE! DOES HE KNOW UR TEXTING ME? Vee asked . NO. THEY R INSIDE. I'M IN THE PARKING LOT ----COOPERSMITHS. THE PIMP. 2 GOOD 4 APPLEBEE'S, I SEE. I'M GOING 2 ORDER THE MOST EXPENSIVE THINGS ON THE MENU. IF ALL GOES WELL,HIM GOING TO THROW HANK'S DRINK IN HIS FACE 2.

I had come here intending to declare a possible war and instead ended up planning a dinner date with my father at Applebee’s.

I could barely make out the wooden door and had to move my hands over it for a while before I found the iron doorknob. I twisted it, but it was locked. Of course. “I already tried it,” Archer said from behind me. I was glad it was dark, so that he couldn’t see me blush yet again. “I told you, Cross. It’s all kissing in castles and Applebee’s from now on.” I turned so that my back was to the door. He walked forward. “Ah, but this is technically outside the cellar,” he murmured as he pulled me into his arms.

Applebee’s is a chain of mid-quality restaurants serving “American food,” which essentially means that Everything Features Cheese.

When things change, even radically, you look at your buddies, shake your head, shrug, and adapt. That's what you do, as soldiers. Civilians get upset when the menu changes at Applebees.

Daphne stopped and turned to the injured man. “I like my outfit,” she said and stuck her tongue out. Mr. Applebee stuck his tongue out, too, and the little girl stomped out of the room.

Today, if you pay a[n US] dollar for a pound of apples in the supermarketm only about six cents covers the farmwork used to get it there; (...)

I stared at our hands. “Am I ever going to see you again?” “You better believe it,” he said. “Didn’t I promise you we could make out in a castle?” Chuckling, I drew my hand back. “You did. And to take me on dates. Real dates with no swords or ghouls or angst.” “Well, there you go,” he said. “As soon as we’ve saved the world from a demon invasion, it’s you, me, and Applebee’s.” I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning now. “Oh, the romance.” His smile slowly faded. “I will see you again,” he said, serious this time. “I promise.” He moved closer to me so that his translucent legs disappeared into the bed. “Mercer, I-“ And then, just like that, be blinked out and was gone.

Oh, look, there are jobs available in Jacksonville! Today there are two jobs for me and 1.2 million other people in this city to choose from. I can either go into the advertising industry by being a sign spinner, which sounds perfect for me because I really enjoy standing in the heat and getting honked at by drivers, or I can go into public relations by being a part time host/hostess at the Applebees on Old. St. Augustine Rd. Both of these jobs sound great, but since the competition for them is so stiff, I’m really regretting not having taken on another $50,000 dollars of debt and getting a master’s degree. I’m not feeling confident that I’m qualified for either of them.

Didn’t I promise you we could make out in a castle?” Chuckling, I drew my hand back. “You did. And to take me on dates. Real dates with no swords or ghosts or angst.” “Well, there you go,” he said. “As soon as we’ve saved the world from a demon invasion, it’s you, me, and Applebee’s” I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning now. “Oh, the romance.

If the world is dead, at least it took Applebee's with it.

If the world is dead, at least it took Applebee's with it.

Turn right on here and then go straight.” “No,” Jennifer scolded. “Go forward.” Yes, go forward. Go straight and you end up at Applebee’s, probably.

She looked at me in a troubled sort of way, the way I look today at people who rave about the food at Applebee’s or the Olive Garden.

take such delight in those chunky highlights. They are the visual manifestation of a request to speak with a manager at Applebee’s.

Eventually the visitors were treated to a thoroughly non-ironic dinner at an Applebee’s.

We should hope for even less participation, not more. Ideally, politics would occupy only a small portion of the average person’s attention. Ideally, most people would fill their days with painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain, or perhaps football, NASCAR, tractor pulls, celebrity gossip, and trips to Applebee’s. Most people, ideally, would not worry about politics at all.3

(The angry and funny and outspoken pop star Morrissey is an anomaly, calling out contradictions and hypocrisies in society yet he always seems to be chastised by the press and on social media because he’s speaking honestly and doesn’t buy into the accepted narrative of the Applebee’s Gay.)

We only have a little bit of time before I leave for Korea. Let’s not waste it.” Then I slide my hand in his, and he squeezes it. The house is completely empty, for the first time all week. All the other girls are still at the party, except for Chris, who ran into somebody she knows through Applebee’s. We go up to my room, and Peter takes off his shoes and gets in my bed. “Want to watch a movie?” he asks, stretching his arms behind his head. No, I don’t want to watch a movie. Suddenly my heart is racing, because I know what I want to do. I’m ready. I sit down on the bed next to him as he says, “Or we could start a new show--” I press my lips to his neck, and I can feel his pulse jump. “What if we don’t watch a movie or a show? What if we…do something else instead.” I give him a meaningful look. His body jerks in surprise. “What, you mean like now?” “Yes.” Now. Now feels right. I start planting little kisses down his throat. “Do you like that?” I can feel him swallow. “Yes.” He pushes me away from him so he can look at my face. “Let’s stop for a second. I can’t think. Are you drunk? What did Chris put in that drink she gave you?” “No, I’m not drunk!” I had a little bit of a warm feeling in my body, but the walk home woke me right up. Peter’s still staring at me. “I’m not drunk. I swear.” Peter swallows hard, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure you want to do this now?” “Yes,” I say, because I really, truly am. “But first can you put on Frank Ocean?” He grabs his phone, and a second later the beat kicks in and Frank’s melodious voice fills the room. Peter starts fumbling with his shirt buttons and then gives up and starts to pull my shirt up, and I yelp, “Wait!” Peter’s so startled, he jumps away from me. “What? What’s wrong?” I leap off the bed and start rummaging through my suitcase. I’m not wearing my special bra and underwear set; I’m wearing my normal every day cappuccino-colored bra with the frayed edges. I can’t lose my virginity in my ugliest bra.

Resisting intense commercial pressure, Walpole’s government had drafted an Act of Quarantine to keep out vessels suspected of carrying the disease. An author in the government’s pay believed to be Defoe rose vigorously to the Act’s defence in a series of ten articles for the Daily Post, Mist’s Journal, and Applebee’s Journal, signing himself ‘Quarantine’... Opinion was duly swayed and the Act of Quarantine gained the royal assent on 12 February 1722. Four days earlier, Defoe had published his first major work on plague, Due Preparations for the Plague, as well for the Soul as Body, and in the spring its blend of medicine and piety suffused the grand historical fiction that is A Journal of the Plague Year. If the Marseilles plague gave Defoe a publishing opportunity that had been simmering for years, it also spawned a wealth of new material for him to recycle or refute (David Roberts)

The town they entered differed little from any other he had been in lately. The ubiquitous Perkins, Applebees, Buffalo Wild Wings, Qdoba, and Panda Express were situated around the central hub that was Walmart, like appendages of some spider or octopus. Like some metastasizing tumor that threatened to overwhelm the town.

There have even been class action lawsuits launched against Applebee’s, Chili’s, On the Border, Macaroni Grill, and Weight Watchers following the laboratory evaluation of restaurant meals listed as being low in calories (and specially designed for WeightWatchers) when the results demonstrated markedly higher calories—sometimes more than double—than what was posted.

Significant things shouldn’t begin or end at Applebee’s. You

Dad:  Although a BLT FROM Applebee’s sounds Really good right now Son:  My dad is literally a F***** *****hole He’s so unnecessarily rude.

This was all a tremendous long shot. The Hope Faith Adoption Agency was located in a small office complex behind an Applebee’s on Roosevelt Trail. The owner, a man covered in untamed gray hair and named Maish Isaacson, greeted her with a nervous smile and a dead-fish handshake. He wore stylish tortoise-frame glasses and an unruly beard. “I don’t see how I can help,” Isaacson said for the third time.

Simon was, for a long time, the “Brown-Haired Smoker.” I keep a notebook next to the door, in the cardboard box. In it, I have a page dedicated to every resident on our floor, including myself. There were fifteen ‘Sixers,’ as I like to refer to us, and when Simon moved in, “The Brown-Haired Smoker” is what I wrote on the top of the page. He moved in with a girl who, as best I could tell from my peephole, was one step above trailer trash. They were arguing, carrying black trash bags full of crap, and her voice interrupted his twice between the elevator and their door. I started a page for her and titled it “Trailer Trash Tonya.” I later found out her name was Beth, and she worked at Applebee’s. Two weeks after moving in, they got in a fight, she moved out, and I threw away her page. From the words of their parting, she would not be coming back.

our time on earth is little more than a flyby, there’s no point wasting a second of it on things we can’t change.

On no less than three separate occasions, children have been served alcohol instead of apple juice at Applebee’s restaurants.

place

All in all, they seemed the kind of brood that would cap a Sunday-morning sermon with brunch at Applebee’s. Eve was more than a little familiar with this crowd.

It isn’t the dumping itself she takes issue with. She’s been dumped many times. In fact, she’s been dumped in this exact Applebee’s at least twice.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a snob. I don’t have a problem with Applebee’s per se. But I think we can all agree, as a civilized society, that lives shouldn’t change there. Significant

Significant thins shouldn't begin or end at Applebee's.

Significant things shouldn't begin or end at Applebee's.

How long would it take for the wonder to wear off? For buying aspirin in such a place to begin to feel normal, even ho-hum? Did a person ever stop seeing (feeling) the beauty, the history of Paris? Did stone walls begin to feel cold and depressing, to the point where she would ever yearn for the plastic, standardized façades of an Applebee’s or an Olive Garden? There

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a snob. I don’t have a problem with Applebee’s per se. But I think we can all agree, as a civilized society, that lives shouldn’t change there.

Here’s the worst detail of all—worse than Wham! even, if you can believe it. It all happened at Applebee’s. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a snob. I don’t have a problem with Applebee’s per se. But I think we can all agree, as a civilized society, that lives shouldn’t change there. Significant things shouldn’t begin or end at Applebee’s. You shouldn’t walk into Applebee’s as one thing and then leave as something else entirely. She

Back in the eighties, the journalist Richard Rhodes nailed the place with just two words: Cupcake Land. To the irritation of local leaders, the nickname has stuck. Cupcake Land is a metropolis built entirely according to the developer's plan, without the interference of angry proles or ethnic pols as in nearby Kansas City. Cupcake Land encourages no culture but that which increases property values; supports no learning but that which burnishes the brand; hears no opinions but those that will further fatten the cupcake elite; tolerates no rebellion but that expressed in haircuts and piercings and alternative rock. You know what it's like even though you haven't been there. Smooth jazz. Hallmark cards. Applebees. Corporate Woods. (49)

What Applebee’s was proposing was like Rick Bayless’s endorsement of a line of chicken sandwiches for Burger King

7. SUSHI IS ABOUT THE FISH, IDIOTS Sushi is raw fish, Fresh, oily, fatty, delicate, slightly cool, thinly sliced or expertly cubed sections of the delicious nectar of the sea. That’s the whole point of sushi. When you eat rolls slathered with cream cheese, fried onions, flavored mayonnaise, syrup, tempura shrimp poppers, mango chutney, and deep-fried marshmallows, you are missing the entire point of sushi and should just go eat at Applebee’s. (Especially on “Wings ‘n’ Waffles Wednesdays.”) When you roll your piece of sushi in a pool of salty soy sauce, stack a pile of ginger on top of your fish, or wipe the entire surface of the sushi with ewasabi, you are committing a crime against a fish, the ocean, and even the great Poseidon himself. Eat a delicious raw piece of fish, wrapped in a tiny belt of seaweed on a small bed of fluffy rice. Stir a little bit of wasabi into the soy sauce and let a small amount graze the fish itself (without using your rice as a soy sauce sponge). Enjoy the piece in one single bite, and savor the glorious explosion of seafood goodness. You’re welcome, America. And Japan.

Significant things shouldn’t begin or end at Applebee’s.

That's what I want to be when I grow up--caring and gentle,' I said, because that's what all good men should be like. Even if you don't have money to buy swanky dinners in flashy restaurants like Applebee's or T.G.I. Friday's or wear trendy clothes or have a shit-hot hot-rod car, you can still be gentle and caring.

Maggie, for her part, is impressed. He looks super nice. His car is a man’s car. It smells of air freshener and more of the same cologne. She thinks of the boys in Fargo, who never light her cigarettes. Mateo opens the car door for her. They drive to Applebee’s. She orders her favorite, the blackened chicken. He cares whether or not she is full. He makes sure she isn’t just pretending to be done eating. Are you sure you’re all set? he asks. Don’t act all princess-like. Besides, I eat so damn fast. She nods, her mouth full of food. She smiles as soon as she’s able.

I only just met Barb, but I agree our Applebee’s is a little bit haunted.

Last year the Pupfish were banned from Applebee’s for ripping apart the dining room while trading blows with a bunch of airmen who got to giggling about the team’s name.