You've got to dip it, before you stick it, in your mouth...

Jack in a Box.

Two tacos…99 cents. ( $1.07 if you wanna break my balls)

Chicken Sandwich, add tomatoes…99c. (Yeah Yeah)

Coke, no ice…99c (I’m not even gonna bother)

20 minutes of elation…priceless.

Ketchup and acres of ranch and don’t bother me, I’m eating. It doesn’t get all over the place but in the whole on my face and it tastes like artificial angels swimming in my mouth. Its like I’m young again. Carerfee. I know its only temporary, but so is evrything worth having. Sure, after I eat it descends to the hells of my stomach and I sit in potential Pept-bismol purgatory to see if my yin will yang, or if I’ll just need a little fast food cat nap. I might have some uneasy dreams as my body deals with figuring out how to breakdown what I ate and where to put it, but I’ll live.  And sn’t that another reason on its own? You can’t be fuckin with Whopper Jrs when your fifty. I’ll live, and for the moment, it’ll be a slightly better existence.  

            Don’t judge.  Where do you get what you get? What is it? Is it good? I might want some. What condiment do you use, if any? If you use no condiment I strongly suggest one. How much does it cost? I usually only have but a dollar or two, but I’m a bargain shopper. A real frugal baller.

            But more importantly, how does it make you feel? Do angels swim in your mouth too?  Do you feel young again, also? When do you indulge? Just got a parking ticket? Bad midterms? Transmission gonna cost you $300 you don’t have? Oh no! Well you do have $3, don’t you? It’s Tuesday. Get some small fries and a 4-piece chicken nugget. Fuck it…this is America so get two. Oh yeah!

            But its not just for the little hiccups in life. I had McDonalds for breakfast and dinner on November 5^th 2004. I was thinking of bombing the drive through the second time around when I realized the golden arches were a big W when turned upside down but…I had already ordered. 

            So eat up and eat away life’s little sighs of disbelief. Have a moment of silence for the cow you're about to consume, and thank the French as you dip your last fry even though they're bastards, and if it tastes like angels or whatever fantastical being swimming, let the oceans flow with an ice-cold beverage of your choice.

Yeah…you might feel  shitty, but you’ll definitely feel great first. Me, Jack, Ronald, Wendy, the Colonel, the King and that little fuckin Chihuahua promise it.