Thoughts on McDonalds

Thoughts on McDonalds.

McNuggets are inherently superior to 'Chicken Selects.' It's not fucking gourmet cuisine. The reason I went to McDonalds is because I have no selective reasoning. I know its processed meats pounded together. Processed with love and pounded with flavor.

The 'Poor Man's Big Mac' (i.e. the 99 cent double cheeseburger with thousand island dressing) is not a sufficient substitute for the real thing. It's not the sauce, or the meat, or the lettuce that makes a Big Mac. It's the balance of all of these things, plus a kick-ass middle bun. No middle bun, no dice.

This Monopoly game is pissing me off. Baltic Avenue? What the fuck's that? Just tell me I lost in plain English. 

The Nurtrition Facts are just visual clutter on the simple crimson of a fry box or the periwinkle blue of a Filet o Fish wrapper. I already know I'm killing myself, I don't need to know the amount of calories that will finally send me over the edge and into that Playplace in the Sky. You might as well send reminders to people with terminal diseases on how many days they have left. You bastards.

I'm sick of these bags with benday dot, Lichtenstein people from other countries riding bikes and shit while saying a variation of "I'm lovin' it" in their country's native language. Enjoy the yak lentil soup from your own impoverished nation. Stay out of my American® McDonalds.

Get a new tagline! "I'm lovin' it?" What the hell. Whatever happened to "Do you believe in magic?" or "Food, folks and fun?" Whatever happened to your class? McDonalds, I'm talking to you. "I'm lovin' it?" I most certainly am not.

There's a 99 cent Spicy McChicken in Las Vegas. In one fell swoop, McDonalds not only tops the 99 cent Spicy Chicken Sandwich of Carls Jr. but manages to top its own regular 99 cent McChicken in order to collect the title of Best 99 cent Chicken Sandwich on the Market (Regular or Spicy)®. Good work Las Vegas McDonalds.

Bring back the danger and richness to your franchise characters. There used to be a Tolkein-esque mythology to the fantasy world we all call McDonaldland. There were pirates (Captain Crook), lawmen (Constable Big Mac), criminals (the original bad-ass mustache-twirling Hamburglar, not this Noid knock-off), political intrigue (Mayor McCheese), monsters (the original Grimace, who had multiple sets of arms and ruined milkshakes) and a longing for what was beyond the cosmos on par with the best work of Carl Sagan and Arthur C. Clarke (MacTonight, the moon-faced hipster who drove around outer space in a red Cadillac convertible). Bring back the depth to Ronald McDonald, that Scottish warrior-poet who masked his doomed interspecies love for Birdie behind an artificial smile. Bring back the magic and nuance to McDonaldland.

Remove all of the hard, crunchy 'potato-ass' pieces from the french fries. I want my fries limp and soggy!

Stop hiring people with skin rashes and acne spattered faces. I don't want to be served by some guy with ulcers eating off the flesh of his nose, and one over-sized eyeball covered in a white film that drips milky tears. I don't need this shit.

Stop watering down your soft drinks and bring back the 69 cent 64 oz sodas!

Thank you and good luck.