McDonalds

Despite the amount of time I spent protesting against this lout during my college years (while conversely falling through the door every late Saturday night) I will still recommend this place for the magical properties of its food…
Nourishing? — hell no! You don’t actually believe that McDonalds is meant as a replacement for for any of your 3 square meals, do you?
Seriously???
Nope, what McDonalds is miraculously good at is hitting that little spot caused by the weekly tear-​filled race to the bottom of the bottle. Last week a friend of mine decided to sell what’s left of her dignity in exchange for a trip around Galway with her few remaining single friends who who are single because either they’re too smart for all that nonsense or, as they freely admit when drunk, because nobody wants them.
Anyways, a long drive back up to Dublin where I shared the remainder of my stomach contents with a few surprised sheep was only kept bearable by the thoughts of a full round of over-​salted grease at my local McDs.
It never ceases to amaze me at how different things are now. Little things like the doors open well before you’re in front of them as if they’re welcoming you. The food is «new» but you can keep all that yuppie stuff — I come for the grease and the promise of a cure. I remember this place from years ago in all its yellow and red hideousness, but that, like my virginity, is a relic of a different age,
:o/​