"The president of McDonalds was in foul humour."
Yes, he was indeed. There I was, sitting down on the bleached tables with a sloppy meal hardly worth eating laid out in front of me. I was staring at my hyper friend Chris in the eyes while trying not to sniff the heavily plastered air which smelt of Ketchup being mass produced and cooked for too long around many drunken factory men. He was so busy eating his Chicken McNuggets that I didn't even realize the so called 'burger' I was holding up to my mouth had lizard testicles dangling from it. They were soon dangling from my mouth, and I hadn't noticed this until Chris had pointed it out to me 5 minutes later when he stopped choking on his Mug Root Beer. Indeed, I was embarrassed, and had to soil the floors of the McDonald's bathroom even more by tossing my cookies upon it.
I don't get how much power the McDonalds corporation thinks they have, and what kind of things they believe they can get away with. I mean, lizard testicles? That's disgusting, and it gave me the biggest stomach ulcer of my life. The future of McDonalds, I believe, is that they're trying to find ways to decrease the surplus population without drawing attention to themselves. Well, putting lizard testicles in an Egg McMuffin won't cover up much, Mayor McCheese.
Wow, this hospital bed is quite comfortable. I must say I'm recuperating quite nicely from that last trip to McDonalds, when they put monkey anus parts in my Big Xtra.
I caused quite a commotion in the McDonalds drive thru stretch, when I took a bite before I drove away and started to convulse so hard, the air bag of my '97 Neon shot out at my head and sent my body flying through the side window. I got away with a few scars and an ass tumor. How exactly does that happen when you go flying out a car window? It's McDonald's whole plot to take over the planet, I tell you.
Ow, stupid sling. It won't let my arm reach for the Wendy's fries. Yes, I have converted to Wendy's. Not only because McDonalds kept putting nasty little surprises in my food, but I've heard they're sticking parts of good ol' Dead Dave Thomas in there, and I want to find one so I can put it in a jar and treasure it forever. Dave is my REAL hero, you know. Not like stupid crack-fiend-clown Ronald McDonald. He never gave me true love, anyway. Dave always gave me my fix of good old burgers and fries. And now, I want to repay him.. by keeping my heart close to his... literally.
Yes, he was indeed. There I was, sitting down on the bleached tables with a sloppy meal hardly worth eating laid out in front of me. I was staring at my hyper friend Chris in the eyes while trying not to sniff the heavily plastered air which smelt of Ketchup being mass produced and cooked for too long around many drunken factory men. He was so busy eating his Chicken McNuggets that I didn't even realize the so called 'burger' I was holding up to my mouth had lizard testicles dangling from it. They were soon dangling from my mouth, and I hadn't noticed this until Chris had pointed it out to me 5 minutes later when he stopped choking on his Mug Root Beer. Indeed, I was embarrassed, and had to soil the floors of the McDonald's bathroom even more by tossing my cookies upon it.
I don't get how much power the McDonalds corporation thinks they have, and what kind of things they believe they can get away with. I mean, lizard testicles? That's disgusting, and it gave me the biggest stomach ulcer of my life. The future of McDonalds, I believe, is that they're trying to find ways to decrease the surplus population without drawing attention to themselves. Well, putting lizard testicles in an Egg McMuffin won't cover up much, Mayor McCheese.
Wow, this hospital bed is quite comfortable. I must say I'm recuperating quite nicely from that last trip to McDonalds, when they put monkey anus parts in my Big Xtra.
I caused quite a commotion in the McDonalds drive thru stretch, when I took a bite before I drove away and started to convulse so hard, the air bag of my '97 Neon shot out at my head and sent my body flying through the side window. I got away with a few scars and an ass tumor. How exactly does that happen when you go flying out a car window? It's McDonald's whole plot to take over the planet, I tell you.
Ow, stupid sling. It won't let my arm reach for the Wendy's fries. Yes, I have converted to Wendy's. Not only because McDonalds kept putting nasty little surprises in my food, but I've heard they're sticking parts of good ol' Dead Dave Thomas in there, and I want to find one so I can put it in a jar and treasure it forever. Dave is my REAL hero, you know. Not like stupid crack-fiend-clown Ronald McDonald. He never gave me true love, anyway. Dave always gave me my fix of good old burgers and fries. And now, I want to repay him.. by keeping my heart close to his... literally.