This week’s theme of Freedom has me thinking about the most sacred of America’s fast food: McDonald’s fries. People acknowledge that McDonald’s burgers taste like old tire treads and McDonald’s itself seems to shrug that off (“Hey, your kid wants a happy meal with a little fucking toy made in China, so blow us and pay for our shitty burgers”) by overcompensating on the fries. Still, I haven’t actually had McDonald’s fries since I was a kid so I wanted to try them out all over again. Let’s see if I feel nostalgic or just sick.
While You’re Eating Them: Not…good. These fries are scrawny and dried up, your annoying younger cousin reborn as a fast food runt. Worse than that, they seem smug. Kind of like “We’re the most popular fries in the world, so just eat us and don’t complain because people will think you’re crazy.” Kind of like your runty cousin who thinks “I’m an only child and your aunt/uncle will love me no matter if you say I’m not all that great.”
After You’re Done: Man the sun seems bright. My mouth is dry, better slurp down a jumbo sized McDonald’s large cola that’s been watered down like a bar’s booze.
Impotence Level: My penis is as shriveled up as one of those fries. There is a layer of salt at the bottom of an empty container, so that’s the salt that DIDN’T wind up on the fries which is already coated in an entire shaker’s worth.
Heart Attack Level on a scale of 1 to 5: For most it’s a 2, but for me it’s a 3. I seriously hate salt and had just gotten over last week’s theater popcorn. Better put an ambulance on standby.