I've been listening to "Baker Street" by Gerry Raferty since he passed away. That song makes me want to be a detective in the 80's. I'd like to be a detective. Mostly to kick in doors and interrogate drug dealers, where I'd scream "Tell me what you know!" at the top of my lungs.
Speaking of lungs ...
I had McDonald's (how's that for a seque?) for lunch. My fiance' and I have been trying to lose weight, but every once in a while, I like to go bananas and tank myself. Today I noticed something though.
Sitting in my car in the drive-through of the McDonald's in Islip, I was suddenly seized by an impossible bout of claustrophobia. To my right, thick wooden bushes. To my left, a wooden divider. What if I suddenly went into labor and my only option was to drive myself to the hospital? What if I suddenly needed to escape the line to race off after a perp?
I got very panicky in that drive-through.
I got two chicken sammiches, for the price of one(!). I also got a McDouble for shits and giggles.
The burger tasted like pure pepper. As if while seasoning, the guy preparing the burger in the factory just hit the "more pepper" button too many times. I was disgusted. Of course, Morgan Spurlock turned me off to McDonald's once before, but hopefully, my mouthful of pepper will do the same, and make it last this time.
Here's a link to a great song by one of my favorite bands, Andrew Jackson Jihad.
yo, i havent had mickey d's in sooo long, i miss it, but am totally turned off by it, once i found my car in the drive thru, stuck in the lane, and waited til i got up to the window to actually tell the girl, sorry, i changed my mind. i was so excited at my choice, and for the sheer fact that if a wrapper had been found in my car, pure death from the food nazi would ensue. but anyways....
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