McNuggets Are Talking to Me

From outta nowhere this morning a friend of mine started texting me about Chicken McNuggets. Receiving texts about the single greatest thing on Earth that can't be shaved has caught me off guard; I feel like the guy in White Noise who thought his dad was speaking to him through radio waves or some shit. In other words, I think I started fantasizing that I'm not just receiving texts ABOUT McNuggets, but texts BY McNuggets. Wtf? What a world that would be, right? "Hi Xmastime!!  Big ol' 20-pack of us here for ya, come on over!!!! Eat us up good, jack!!"

This is what it's come to, people. Really.

I was also reminded of that before high school basketball games, whenever we'd travel to another school to play we'd stop at McDonald's, and the Coach would make a big deal out of us NOT eating french fries, as they would bog us down . But he didn't seem, to mind us inhaling 20-piece packs of McNuggets ($2.90!), which are basically rat fur and thumbs wrapped in the outsides of french fries if they were fried, then fried again, then breaded and fried again. Obviously, he was also our trigonometry teacher. Hmm.

In the words of Coach Norman Dale: "I love you guys."