Lebanon's

Lebanon's, 1500 S. Carrollton Ave., 504--6200
(Middle Eastern, LD)

Flash forward to the year 200999. The liberals have prevailed. Marriage is no longer defined as being between just one man and one woman or even one just between one person and another person. . . . Lebanon's, do you take dazee to be your lawfully-wedded husband? I do. Dazee, do you take Lebanon's to be your lawfully-wedded restaurant? I do. Yes, this is what America has come to. Yes, it's the year 200999. Restaurants are marrying people. Dogs are marrying their owners' crotches. See, I told you so.

Seriously, though. Can I be serious for just a minute? Lebanon's grape leaves make me do the hokey-pokey. They're made not with just rice, but some other kind of grain, maybe cous-cous or bulgar wheat. Hell, I would marry Lebanon's just for the grape leaves. The falafel, hummus, etc., etc., also make me feel so fine, I freakin' be losin' my goddamn mind. And you don't have to feel like you're some kind of weirdo for not using whitening strips on your teeth like you do at Byblos. All you alcoholics out there should listen up, too: Lebanon's lets you BYOB. Me and Ol' Dirty Bastard were gonna bring a bathtub full of Moet and Chandon down to Lebanon's, and then he died. He died, man. Why'd he have to die? Why? Why? Why'd you have to die, ODB?