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Tag Archives: mcdonalds
… To Get To The Nail Salon
Shove it in your facehole like it was a wealthy black man’s cock in an adult book store in Cleveland, you faggot! Stop thinking about it ending up on your hips, your skirt will still fit. There’s goddamned rabbit food all over it. Stop thinking at all, and eat it like it’s Strawberry Shortcake’s pussy a la mode. Or if that doesn’t do it for you, you mincing little coward, think of it as Mayor McCheese’s quarter-pounder on a bun. I’ll bet you break down in sobs at the sight of a spicy nugget. You nauseating, douche-nozzle sucking lady boy. It’s your goddamned lunch! It’s yours, and I saw that chubby little whore at the other register eyeballing it. You gonna let that chubby little whore eat the lunch that, by all rights, belongs to you? I remember a time when a real man would swallow a live chicken whole. Now you mother-bred sissies, in your pink Lacoste shirts and your cruelty free face creams, can’t even swallow a pattied-out piece of synthetic fowl with a generous slathering of mayo lube and your boyfriends to chew it up for you. When your wife finds out you’re too craven to consume an animal that’s been killed, phosphorylated, and breaded for you, she’s going to leave you for the paunchy asthmatic model train enthusiast that lives next door…
Dollar Menu Racism
There seems to be a preponderance, among non-whites, of confusion as to how prefixes in names work vis-a-vis Irish vs. Scottish. Specifically in the arena of McDonald’s. It is not a “MacDouble,” as the black woman ahead of me in line today called it, but a “McDouble,” and so much is clearly laid out on their menu. There is no ‘a’ in “Mc.” I love the show “30 Rock,” but when Salma Hayek made such a big deal out of her favorite desert being the MacFlurry, I rankled just the slightest bit. She’s lucky she’s so hot. Some of you are not so lucky, and this seems to be happening more often than not. I don’t know if you know you’re doing it, but there is a very specific difference involved here. Ronald McDonald is Irish, man. The Irish are serving you the shitty, heat lamped foods. Think of it this way: when you are Puerto Rican and somebody cavalierly calls you Mexican, you get rather pissed off, no? And rightly so! I do not presume to equate fast food ordering with the vast cultural differences of our differing minorities, but some consideration could be employed. It’s not a coincidence that the restaraunt pimps its green milkshakes on St. Patrick’s Day, just by the way. Some apologists argue that these people should be forgiven because one of McDonalds’ menu items is called the Big Mac. How can you expect people to get it straight every time? At the very least these people can be forgiven for their conclusion. Nay, says I. First, sound out your words. Most words that have a hard ‘a’ sound say so in the word. Second, the ‘Mac’ in Big Mac is the subject of the phrase, not the prefixed racial addition. If you can’t … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Nuggets For Sluts Outreach Initiative
New Feature: A soundtrack to enhance your reading experience. Just open the link in another tab on your browser and enjoy the totally relevant song whilst enjoying the article. Today’s soudtrack. For the sake of our nation’s unplanted waves of fertile uteri, responsible, concerned, white, male Congressmen decided last week to selflessly put aside the debt and unemployment issues they really wanted to be talking about, and focus on what really matters: baby makin’. The problem? We are not doing enough of it, and all these rubber gadgets and magic pills are not helping. Did you know condoms are sometimes made out of the skin of sheep? What’s next? Kitten intestine lampshades? I smell an unmissable opportunity for a Hitler comparison. Let’s watch: Sandra Fluke, a student at Georgetown Law School, was supposed to be the Democratic witness at a Congressional hearing about the Obama administration’s contraception policy. However, Darrell “Sweet Mel” Issa, the committee chair at the hearing, prevented her from speaking, while only allowing a series of men to testify about the policy. (Huffpost, more or less) Hunny, the men are talking. Steak and BJ Day (ladies) is right around the corner. Maybe you should be loosening your jaw, or practicing char vs. warm pinkness ratio (sweet, that actually works both ways). You can throw the practice steaks to homeless people if you want, hippie. We got you that nice sheer dressing gown for V-day. You liked that right? What the hell do women of child-bearing age even know about contraception anyway? God gave us male politicians so you don’t have to hurt yourself with thinking. Your turn, Rushizzle. Tell the bitch. “What does it say about the college co-ed Susan Fluke [sic] who goes before a congressional committee and essentially says that she must be paid to … Finish reading this sumbitch!