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You! Suck! McDonald’s!

I recently posted about a weekly occurrence in our household called McDonald’s Monday.

Unfortunately, despite my quality control, a six piece order of Mcnuggets did not make it into the bag with the rest of our food last Monday. I blame myself for not looking closer. However, that did not stop me from calling McDonald’s and delivering a scathing, two minute ass-reaming to the GED holder store manager that answered the phone.

I am not positive they know what I look like but there may be a crude caricature of me with a diagonal slash through it on the wall of the break room at McDonald’s. There’s also a good chance someone has drawn a Hitler moustache and devil horns on me with a black magic marker.

I can no longer guarantee that, even if my neighborhood McDonald’s manages to give me all the Mcnuggets I’ve paid for, they will not include a spit garnish. I also feel compelled to mention that I don’t think it’s fair that I have to be so involved in the fulfillment of my fast food order.

Therefore, McDonald’s Monday in our house is now known as “Something from Subway.”

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