Oh hood spot, how I love your delicious food. From your chicken, to catfish, to lake trout in certain locales, to okra, to various other spice encrusted morsels. How your constantly bubbling deep fryers sound like sweet music to my ears. Your outdated interiors with their ratty stools and linoleum counters need never see a washcloth. I am not off put when I often have to place my order through bullet proof glass because I know true love, true fried love, awaits me.
Oh hood spot, please never change.
Oh hood spot, please never change.
