Real Yelp Reviews, the angry ones, turned into Mad Libs®. Because entitled resentment and internet shaming makes the best adult version of your favorite childhood word game. May your vocab be filthier than your parents ever allowed.
YelpLibs
Angry Yelp Reviews + Classic Childhood Word Game = ♥
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The first bar I ever went to when I turned {{Age}} was a dive bar in {{City}}… and it was NOTHING like this. Well, I’m being a bit dramatic. {{Name of dive bar}} looks and smells like a {{Type of establishment}}, but it doesn’t feel like a {{Type of establishment}}. I went this past Saturday night and it was filled with {{Age #2}} year old “{{Group of people (plural)}}” rolling their eyes at me for wearing {{Type of footwear}} and a {{Adjective}} {{Article of clothing}}. In contrast, my first dive bar in {{City}} was filled with {{Group of people #2 (plural)}} and {{Profession (plural)}} that didn’t give a fuck about what I did or how I dressed. You don’t get that “IDGAF” attitude at {{Name of dive bar}}. You get that “I’m trying really hard to look like I’m {{State of mind}} and that I DIDN’T try really hard.” That being said, I really don’t care about what other {{Plural noun}} think. I just wanted to go on a little rant about {{Group of people (plural)}}. {{Name of dive bar}} was grimy, {{Negative adjective #1}}, {{Negative adjective #2}}… but the back room was great. Whoever was controlling the music was playing Prince, {{Band or artist #1}}, {{Band or artist #2}}… you name it! Pretty sure my friends and I were the only ones who knew the lyrics to every song… and of course we started a dance party. Some people gave us {{Plural noun #2}}, and we got some dirty looks. You can’t win ’em all!
I didn’t think it was that hard to make a cup of {{Adjective #1}} coffee. I was wrong. I {{Verb}} nearby and get coffee every morning. Nothing fancy, just plain {{Adjective #1}} coffee. There seems to be a rotating mix of {{Adjective #2}}-looking people and {{Nationality (plural)}} who appear to be the owners. The {{Adjective #2}}-looking people actually make decent coffee, but the {{Nationality (plural)}}, who also speak very poor {{Language}}, make {{Adjective #3 (CAPS)}} coffee and for ${{Number #1}} you have got to be kidding me. The best is when I ask for {{Adjective #1}} coffee and they leave like {{Number #2}} inches at the top to add {{Liquid}}. When I ask them to fill it up they give me a dirty look and fill it up with an inch to spare. ALSO, Health Inspectors… My co-worker ordered a {{Food}}, the worker went from handling my {{Something gross}} to grabbing a {{Food}} with her {{Body part}} and potentially spreading germs everywhere. I am not a germaphobe, but put on a {{Article of clothing}}.
Terrible service!!! I decided to take a gamble on this club with a ${{Number}} cover… that’s right a ${{Number}} cover to see a {{Profession}} that was spinning tonight. Never heard of him but he was supposed to be {{Adjective #1}}. Despite the ridiculous charge I decided to pay because all my friends were going. Boy what a mistake that was… I {{Adverb}} {{Verb (past tense)}} in the back for a couple of songs and then decided to go outside and smoke a {{Singular noun #1}} with my friends. As we were going inside I flicked my {{Singular noun #1}} apparently too close to the door and the bouncer took offense and decided that I was no longer permitted inside. Obviously, I was not happy with that and put up a huge fit. Because I am a rather {{Adjective #2}} {{Man or woman}} at {{Height}} tall I was SWARMED with bouncers that threatened to beat me if I decided to make another move. I asked all the bouncers why I was being kicked out and none of them could give me a real answer… besides the fact that I brought an attractive {{Singular noun #2}} that was already inside and they decided that I was threatening to all of them. I will never go back to this club because of the terrible service, awful {{Plural noun}}, and very {{Negative adjective}} crowd that was clearly too fucked up to make a good scene. DO NOT COME TO THIS CLUB UNLESS YOU ENJOY BEING MISTREATED. TERRIBLE SERVICE, TERRIBLE {{Plural noun (in caps)}}, TERRIBLE TIME!!!
This place is NOT WORTH your time or money you could otherwise be spending on {{Plural noun #1}}. By that I mean, if you’re going to charge over ${{Number}} for entrees then they should at least be palatable. We came here with a group of {{Plural noun #2}} last night. Our server was {{Adjective #1}} and a little {{Adjective #2}}, but that’s okay, it seemed fitting for the place. I ordered the {{Food #1}} risotto but also shared the {{Food #2}} carpaccio with friends. Everything ranged from mediocre to downright terrible. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that this was the worst food I’ve eaten at a sit-down restaurant since I moved here in {{Year}}. It was THAT bad. The risotto tasted like overcooked {{Food #1}} in {{Liquid #1}}. It reminded me of {{Food #3}}. Not terribly bad, but more like slop served in prison. The {{Food #4}} cream sauce or whatever it was was {{Adjective #3}} and unappetizing and you could hardly taste the {{Liquid #2}}. One taste and I immediately regretted putting it in my {{Body part}}. Our three other friends, who I swear are not {{Type of people (plural)}}, all had similar experiences of disbelief at how poor the food was. The service didn’t save the day either. Imagine getting a {{Service}} at a beauty college then translate that to food. That’s how I felt.
Whether it’s a quick {{Number #1}} minutes of cardio or a full-on {{Number #2}} hour workout, this place isn’t worth the {{Liquid}}-smelling carpet inside of it. The “{{Plural noun}}” are archaic. A brother can’t get a treadmill because every {{Neighborhood}}-girl is busy WALKING off the {{Food}} she didn’t know had {{Number #3}} calories in it. The locker room (if you can call it that) has ONE {{Singular noun #1}} in it, is poorly maintained, and has a {{Singular noun #2}} that rivals one from a prison. If I didn’t live down the street and wasn’t grandfathered into a VERY low monthly rate, I’d build my own gym out of an abandoned {{Appliance}} box, hire some {{Adjective}} {{Type of person}} off the street to work the front desk, and rope people into a {{Number #4}} year contract and would get better results than this {{Street name}} shitbox.
I really want to like this place, and I don’t doubt the other 5-star reviews are entirely warranted. But, if you have very {{Adjective #1}} hair like mine, I would highly recommend going elsewhere. I came in with a decent, but {{Adjective #2}} haircut, and walked out looking like a junkyard {{Animal}} who’d just finished gnawing on an abandoned {{Object}}. Again, I know this is a reputable salon with a loyal following of {{Group of people (plural)}}, and the atmosphere of the salon itself is {{Adjective #3}} and {{Adjective #4}}. But, if you have {{Adjective #1}} hair and you’re after a look that says “I just stepped out of a pile of {{Plural noun}} alongside the highway after sleeping there on a rainy night”, then make an appointment here! Otherwise, don’t let them NEAR your {{body part}}.
