Today
I was out to lunch at a local Burger King which had recently reopened
after rumors spread that some kid had been jerking off
in the mayo. It had been a good 18 months since I had gotten the courage
to go back. Well one of the women at my table took a bite from her
BK Broiler and immediately spat it back into her wrapper and pushed
it away from her.
I did not need to see that.
As she was wiping off her lips with her napkin, I was genuinely concerned,
so I asked what was wrong. I was eating this shit too. I would like
to know if she tasted something peculiar in the special sauce if you
know what I mean. They used the same mayo on her sandwich that they
used on my sandwich. If she tastes something familiar
I would appreciate it if she didn't keep us in the dark. All I needed
today was some 16-year-old kid masturbating in the mayonnaise again
in some attempt to show support for the last jerk who defied the establishment
in a logic that only a 16-year-old boy can understand.
Once she got finished brushing her tongue with the napkin she said
that everything was cool, she just doesn't like processed chicken.
Processed chicken? What the fuck is processed chicken?
She said that the BK Broiler wasn't real chicken it was processed
chicken.
How can it not be a real chicken?
She challenged me to see if I can notice the difference between the
chicken in a Spicy Chicken sandwich at Wendy's and a
BK Broiler. She assured me I would be able to taste
the difference.
I told her that if it was a chicken when they killed it, then by my
rational it is chicken.
There is no such thing as a wild Hotdog, so that is why they can put
anything in one of those. But a chicken sandwich, that is chicken
as long as everything in between the buns came from a chicken. It
doesn't even have to be from the same chicken.
I don't care if they pieced it together into the shape of a Christmas
tree. As far as I am concerned now it is a Christmas tree chicken
put that shit between two slices of bread and you have a chicken sandwich.
It isn't complicated.
Apparently my argument wasn't at all persuasive.
I was told to under no uncertain terms to kiss her big black ass,
as she got up to buy a Junior Whopper. Which apparently is shaped
exactly like one would expect to find a whopper in the wild.
I
Love To Eat Meat Well with that said I was
reading this article on a fucking five legged lamb in Clinton County
in Iowa, and I started growing concerned...
