I was talking with one of my co-workers this morning about the virtues of the McDonalds McRib Sandwich. You see, Earl recently brought home a couple of them, as the fine (ahem) citizens of Ohio currently have the opportunity to buy McRibs at the local stores, but we in Upstate N.Y. do not have the same privilege. So he brought home some of that boneless, sticky BBQ goodness between two sugar laden rolls.
They were delicious.
And yes, I’m still a vegetarian. I make allowances for McRibs, Cheddar Melts and Chick-Fil-A. Call me weak.
Anyways, back to the co-worker. I was explaining that I am a fast food restaurant connisseur. I enjoy comparing value meals to combo meals. I like to super size (don’t we all!). I like to hold the pickle and hold the lettuce, or at least entertain the thought of doing so because after all, I can have it my way.
There’s this indy movie floating about that features this guy eating nothing but McDonalds food for 30 days and the ill effects it had on him. It’s called “SuperSize Me”. I have not seen the movie “SuperSize Me” yet, though I really want to see it. I want to see if he is a little weakling that really needed a few pounds or if he is a stud muffin that grew to Daddy Bear proportions. Perhaps the DVD will be in my stocking this year, along with a Chick-Fil-A calendar. Another reason that I’m eager to see SuperSize Me is because of the guy’s mustache, but that’s a whole different blog entry. (For those of you keeping score, I’m growing a beard in anticipation of uncharted mustache territory of cowboy proportions. I’m very excited about the prospect, having apparently just completed puberty at age 36 and having new parts of my face grow hair. It does make one pause and say “what the fuck?”)
Anyways, back to the burger bomb. There are some things that I just can’t figure out. Back in my single days, I lived on fast food and junk food. I was a night time radio disc-jockey on Top 40 radio. I lived on free food from Arbys for lunch and free food from McDonalds for supper. On the weekend I got fancy and ate free food from Pizza Hut during my Saturday night mix shows. Then I’d DJ at the local bar Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights drinking nothing but Pepsi (actually RC Cola, it was a cheap bar) and Beer. Maybe a rum and coke or two. If the turntables started making me dizzy, I’d leave out the rum.
With all these “wonderful” eating habits of days gone by, I found myself 10 pounds lighter than I am today. These days, I so much look at Little Debbie with a little lust in my eyes and I gain five pounds. I cycle the roads of Upstate N.Y. in the summer and I cycle the roads of my basement in the winter. I lift weights and think of Tobey Maguire being all agile and athletic in Spiderman. “I can do that too”. Yeah, right. Maybe it’s because I’m eating rabbit food. Maybe I need more burger bombs in my life.
On the “SuperSize Me” website, there is a frequent visitor (his name is Woody, which I find mildly interesting) to the message boards who claims he lost a bunch of weight eating nothing but McDonalds food. And I completely believe him.
The stuff rotted out his insides.
As I mentioned before, I consider myself to have a discerning taste among the fast food set. I am frightened to attest to the knowledge that Wendy is really hot and juicy. I drive to Oklahoma (‘rampant lesbians’ not withstanding) just to park at a Sonic. I go to New Hampshire to eat Chick-Fil-A waffle fries. I love yelling into the clown’s mouth at Jack in the Box! Why can’t my body just go with the flow and let me enjoy my little niche as restaurant critic?
Whatever the reason, I’ll have fries with that.
