size ate.: you deserve a...er...coronary today.

yes, yes you will.

The Worst Fast Food Choices

i think i'm going to vomit.

hard to believe i used to love this schtuff.

when i was little and living in a teensy town in michigan that matched my diminutive stature, i loved mcdonald's. perhaps loved isn't even a strong enough word. i was an advocate of mcdonald's. i lobbied for mcdonald's. it is not, i think, a small coincidence that both my name and that restaurant begin with the same letter - M. i actually wanted to work there when i grew up, thinking,

what could be better? free filet-o-fish, small fries, and a medium hi-c orange drink every day. wow. them there's the life.

we didn't have a mcdonald's in our little village for the formative years of my life, but just as i was about to turn 8, it was announced that we would, in fact, be getting our very own Mickey D's, to be constructed right across the street from the Big Boy Restaurant (we used to go there for their burgers with their "special sauce." "special sauce" my eye...it was thousand island dressing.) the joy i felt was indescribable. upon our first visit to the golden arches, i turned to my mother and said, in complete childlike earnestness:

Mom. Before we were just a town. Now that we have a McDonald's, we're a city.

ha.

i loved everything about McDonald's. the weird-ass looking Ronald (closeted gay man. who else would wear red and yellow so...glaringly?), the high-fructose corn syrup sweetened little cardboard-textured cookies shaped like the Hamburglar, the shiny red plastic seats with grooves where your bum nestled in juuuust so. they'd swivel back and forth when you kicked your brother sitting across from you for stealing your last fry.

but it's MINE!

i had my eighth birthday party there. the one picture i remember from that day is me sitting in a booth, donning a little pink monogrammed sweater, mugging for the camera, eyes wide, holding the cheeseburger in my hands and shoving it into my mouth. that kid wanted to be in pictures. i had the requisite paper crown on my head. they even took me to the back to see the 'behind the scenes.' i was pretty disappointed by the quotidian nature of it all. just a bunch of bitter high school students slapping mustard, onions, lettuce, tomato on a sesame seed bun. (is that the rhyme?) i thought they'd be all bonny and blithe like the rosy-cheeked valedictorians that worked there in the commercials.

thankfully, mom was a bit of a health food nut, so we didn't get McDonald's that frequently (we were a no-sugar cereal, no-pop kind of household) and i, after a 4-year fast food subsistence diet in college, have since revised my eating habits to all but eliminate fast food (my ass and arteries thank me). i'll admit to the occasional McDonald's sundae when i'm a bit schnockered and strolling through Times Square, weaving towards the subway, (i can't help it! the arches call my name!), but ever since they've discontinued the caramel one, what's the fucking point?

i told my mother that when i grew up the only foods i was going to feed my family were "mcdonald's and spaghetti-os."

ha.

perhaps this explains why God has kept me single and childless. my menu would have killed them.