I like McDonald's. A lot. In fact, there have been times in my life when I would eat there several days a week. They have some pretty tasty chicken sandwiches now, and their milkshakes . . . Well, they have this supernatural ability to taste like three flavors at once. I never understand it. I order a chocolate shake, and it tastes like chocolate with a hint of strawberry and somehow vanilla, too. Sometimes, there's this random burst of orange like someone dropped an orange Skittle into the mix. But hey, they're tasty. I don't really like french fries, but it wouldn't be a proper fast food meal without at least seven of them. Those are tasty, too.
I'm tired of people scrunching up their noses when I tell them I ate at McDonald's for lunch or dinner. I don't want your lectures or your scorn or your condescension. I'm not going to make myself feel guilty when I eat because that only makes me depressed. AND THEN I EAT EVEN MORE. So let me happily enjoy my diet of pizza and chocolate and McDonald's. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger, mmk?
Awesome. Now then. Would you like to finish my fries? I only want seven of them.