Better Living Through Paranoia - Part II

It's no secret that I have a wildly unhealthy fascination of fast-food. I have no qualms about it, not ashamed. I embrace it. However, if there was a Dateline NBC special about fast-food offenders, I would be caught on hidden camera with a half-eaten Giant Roast Beef in my hand and a mouthful of fries.

Chris Hansen:
"Hi, I'm Chris Hansen, host of Dateline NBC - To Catch a Fast-Food Predator. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Me (trying to chew and swallow):
"Mrphmfh. Fmherm. Bfmhe."

Chris Hansen:
"Sir, Please don't talk with your mouth full. We recorded your entire drive-thru conversation. We heard every disgusting menu item you ordered from that poor 17-year-old attendant."

Me:
"Hey man, she told me she could get me a deal on Combo Meal 5. I didn't really plan on eating it or anything."

Chris Hansen (with a fistfull of individually wrapped packets):
"Then how do you explain these condiments we found in your car?"

At this point, I make a break for it - throwing my milkshake to the ground and running out of parking lot before being tackled and tased by Mayor McCheese and Morgan Spurlock.

The fat kid never fits in...whether at school; among his peers; in reasonably sized clothing. He goes through life as an outcast. A shunned, scorned and perpetually hungry outcast.And so it is in the workplace.

I work with a gang of self-proclaimed vegans. You know, the folks that eat nothing but bok choy and tofurkey for lunch? So when I bring in my sack of two-for-three-bucks Fillet O' Fish sandwiches (for a limited time; only at participating restaurants), I'm ostracized for contributing to the global influence of the corporate fast-food conglomerates. Because they abuse animals, they say. And feed them waste-products, steroids and hormones to artificially stimulate growth, they say. And put the hardworking ma and pop restaurant owners out of work, they say.

It finally reached a breaking point when a co-worker circulated a forwarded email about animal cruelty, exploitation of workers, unethical marketing, pollution-contributing packaging, blah, blah, blah. They tell me that me eating a delicious Biggie Double Baconator is enabling the ruthless slaughter of innocent calves and helping to spread e. coli, Mad Cow and salmonella. I'm contributing to the suffering and misery of any number of innocent animals. My sandwich is the symbol of bovine genocide, they say.

But I say, put a manatee between two pieces of bread and I'll at least try a bite...and likely enjoy it if there's mayo and pickles involved.So here's my message to you burger bashers and Hardee's haters:

Stay out of my business and away from my Thickburger.