Drive In-n-Out Part II
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rubberbuns (at) gmail.com
So I like fast food. Not in theory, not out of convenience, not for price. I like it because it's delicious. I'm not a large girl; people usually look at me as if there's more to the story for why I'm such a booster for the fast food industry, a saturated fat deficiency or a life spent entirely on offramps. Nope. It's fucking tasty.
Taco Bell- People often hate Taco Bell; I often hate people. Look, is it a little gross that all components of your meal come from a caulking gun? Maybe. But just don’t think about it. I don’t necessarily like the vivid mental images of horse asshole that accompany my fortnightly drunken Slim Jim binge, but I get over it. To any Preacher for whom the Crunchwrap Supreme means are the real problem, and not the ends, that’s just plain stupidity. You don’t look in the mirror and picture your parents fucking, do you?
Also: they made a taco out of chocolate, people. That’s some Wonka-level shit right there.
Dairy Queen- Growing up in small-town Northern NY, Dairy Queen was the answer to everything. Birthdays, engagements, sustenance. Despite having one of the most cut-rate mascots I’ve ever seen—it’s hard to see Dennis as a true menace when the kid with the locker next to yours is banging a 6th grader—their revolutionary ice cream technology negated that little blond annoyance. To this day, I consider a Dilly Bar to be a greater architectural wonder than Stonehenge, and I made it through two of Feynman’s “Six Not-so-Easy Pieces” before switching back to celebrity documentation.
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Wendy’s- If ever one was to try and convert a Preacher, this would be the one to do it. While some Preachers can be tempted into eating something that wasn’t prepared solely for them by the touchy-feely chain stores like Baja Fresh and California Pizza Kitchen, there is no denying the deliciousness of Wendy’s chili, which in turn can be a gateway to other Value Menu items. If ever one were to want to try such a thing—and want is the operative word here, cause I for one can’t be bothered—you gotta walk before you can run, so start with the chili when Preacher Friend is drunk/entering into anemic shock, and then maybe a few years down the road, you can baconate them. Not bloody likely, though.
Subway- Anything you can buy by the foot can’t taste bad, carpet included. Mark it as doctrine.
McDonald’s- An oldie but goodie, and my number one pick for any first date so as get the stomach padding out of the way as quickly as possible before getting down to the getting drunk part. Given the building blocks of bread, potatoes, flattened pre-proportioned meat, about three condiments, and one tool (“hot thing”), they’ve done pretty well on the innovation front. Secret sauce? The Big n’ Tasty? I mean, one day someone at HQ was just fucking around with the piles of meat I assume they keep on their desks as stress busters, and boom! The McRib. National obesity epidemic aside—watch what you eat on your own dime, fatty, and let me have mine—I don’t think anyone has ever come up with a more soniferous sounding slogan than “Supersize it”, and that’s coming from the girl who just came up with the phrase “soniferous sounding slogan than Supersize it” without even trying.
Also, as a child, I would have happily stabbed any single one of my acquaintances for more Happy Meal toys, so nice marketing to boot.
Burger King- Not as good as McDonald’s; still, offers Onion Rings and this new Cheesy Tots thing, for which they should be commended. As a kid, my parents preferred Burger King to McDonald’s because they “baked not fried” (this was pre-gastric bypass), while I preferred everything I consumed to have undergone the Midas Touch*; luckily, the two were across the street and neither required the leaving of one’s car or the breaking of one’s ten dollar bill, so harmony was achieved. Also, a superior fish sandwich, for Catholics still observing Lent but not willing to pay more than $2.50 to do it.
*Oil, not King.
Labels: food