The Deal with Fast Food

You see… I love fast food. My girlfriend has a love/hate relationship with it: she’s studying to be a dietician, but loves it. Anyway, here’s the thing… Most of us, if not all, love fast food. Or, as the media so hurtfully calls it: junk food. Now, while I love it, allow me to point out just one thing:

It’s not fucking fast food!

I remember sitting at McDonalds once, and ordering a Big Mac, and waited for my fast food to arrive. I waited so long that I grew stubble. I swear! My (ex-)girlfriend at the time came to visit me and had a discussion with me detailing the whole day’s events. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t listen to her. All I could think about was my gosh-darn food! That was supposed to be fast!

Finally, after the Second Coming of Jesus H. Christ, and the Nuclear Holocaust, I finally got my Big Mac. Only, there was one problem, they then told me to leave because it was closing time.

True story! No kidding!

Needless to say, I took it as a take away and went home. Upset, and in the mood for revenge, I tossed the Big Mac in the waste bin and made myself a small salad.

After taking one bite, I glanced over at the waste bin and said, “Take that, bitch!”

I would’ve eaten it if they called it “slow food”, but, alas, they just had to piss me off by making me think it was fast. Now… Salad… That is fast!

Slice ‘n dice baby!

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