Mac Torture

Found this picture in Creative Commons on Flickr, and it just about sums it up. I love it!

If I tried to claim I never eat unhealthy junk food, the sound of laughter all over the world would drown out the sound of my own rumbling tummy, but for years I have been totally anti MacDonalds.
Ages ago I read articles about inhumane cattle rearing practices in farms which supplied their cheap beef (haven't been able to source a link for you - no time- but when I do I'll post it), their ethical commitment to service was questioned again recently with their " if they don't know it won't harm them" attitude to beef dripping used in the cooking of their chips, despite having promised hindu customers that the chips were safe for them to eat. The whole world domination of Western fast food chains in general is not a particularly positive thing to my mind either, it's so culturally mind numbing. So, politically and philosophically, there is grist for my mill to back up my objections to the place. However, I will admit that my high minded principles can occasionally be compromised, if pragmatic advantage decrees, but the absolute worst sin that MacDonalds commits, is that is tastes BLOODY AWFUL. It really really does. I mean come on. Go to almost any other burger place and I guarantee it tastes better, and is healthier in at least some small way. The burgers taste like cardboard, and the chips! Well, I could go on for hours about the quality of the chips. And you know folks, you just don't mess with the chips of a Scottish person. I really cannot understand why every time I pass a MacDonalds here in Hiroshima, there is a queue of cars waiting to get into the car park or the drive thru that halts the regular traffic. HOW CAN THIS BE? (Psychological warfare against mothers with small children who want the toys, and the fact that people really will eat crap if it's cheap enough, no doubt.....)
Anyway, every so often I succumb to my insecurites, and think: "maybe it's not that bad. I mean come on, it can't be that awful", or I'm absolutely starving with no time to go anywhere else, and all there is before me is the golden arches, or, since Weechan's advent, I occasionally give in to the peer pressure of the whole world wanting to go there, so as not to appear totally antisocial, or put a damper on things.
And every time, I find out that it really IS that bad, and swear that I will never again set foot in the place.
Such was the case after the Marina Hop expedition with the Rices last Friday. What can I say? It was late. We were hungry. The Rices were going anyway. If I'd cooked when we got home, we'd have eaten at 9pm. And there's Weechan. Big eyes. Oh Mum, everyone else is going. I've never been to this magical shrine of the Happy Set that all my friends speak of with reverence. And all this communicated without uttering a word. Just the eyes.

So I gave in.
And we went.
And it was.
UTTERLY DUSGUSTING!
(the coffee was OK)

I apologise profusely to the Rice family for no doubt spoiling their enjoyment of their own dinner, in the style of my own mother, by being unable to hide my annoyance with my own self, for once again having allowed myself to be duped by the devil of McMarketing.
On the plus side, despite spending the remainder of the evening feeling like I'd drunk a cup of the oil they'd used to fry the chips in for 3 days, Weechan totally hated what she had too, so I was able to say " See, I said it was horrible, didn't I?" and she said "Yes, Mummy and it was!"

Quickly followed by a (I am not making this up) " Mummy, why do you know everything?"
Well, what can I say?