mcdonalds

Ronald is not my friend.

I mean really, why would he try to kill me like that?! All i wanted was a little lunch. I've never been a huge McD fan, but once in a while i give in to the subliminal messages shooting at me from every direction and simply eat a hamburger from there. Today was one of those days.

What was i thinking? I should have stuck with my first idea of walking down Fraser to the little brown man who sells pizza for .99 This way i could have worked off most of the evil calories by the time i 'jogged' back to the office. However, i foolishly decided to forego his unsolicited flirtations in favour of a nappified, greasy big xtra. [In my defence, the last time i went to the pizza joint, the little brown man said something along these lines: "oh, i haven't seen you for a long time... there's something different about you... you look really good..." --as opposed to?!?! Egad! How am i supposed to interpret that?! Jerk-face!]

Now, here i sit with a lump of lard trying to work its way through my poor little digestive system and a belly ache sore enough to make even the toughest girl winch 'n' whine. Sclew lou Ronald, and the horse you rode in on!!