3/22: #33, It's A Long Way To The Drive Thru If You Want A Happy Meal
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 33: Hawk 34
Even though we have never met, Hawk and I have an unbreakable bond that can never be broken, much like the one I have with fellow poster Gert T. What's that bond? We have all lived in or near the Middletown, Ohio, region. With its unique mix of white and ghetto trash, Middletown has this charm that other, more developed communities lack. Oh there were many a night when I saw the flashing lights of a police car racing down by my townhouse along Clark Street off to catch some hooligans. Speaking of racing, Hawk likes that NASCAR stuff. I don’t know how that’s a redeeming quality to me, seeing I don’t really care about this sport (yes, I call it a sport), but whatever. And you know what, even though he’s been suspected of being the previously banned poster Choken One, I really don’t care. I had no qualms with Choken, so even if Hawk is the “One,” thus swerving nobody on this board but me, big deal. I do have several reasons to believe Hawk isn’t Choken, and one of them is that Hawk has shown me a picture of his squeeze. Even though she is hot, I don’t believe they are cousins. Now if Hawk would have only sent me a picture of her without all those pesky clothes, he might have cracked the Top 20.
And now a word or three from the expert panel I've assembled to comment on the people I've listed.
From Black Lushus:
Choken has come a long way, I think we can all admit that. There are times when flashes of the old Choken comes out, but that's alright because I've never had a problem with him anyway, even back in the day. Hawk34 is good people.
From SFA Jack:
Is he Choken One? Is he not Choken One? Am I Choken One? Does anyone really care? I know I don't.
From Cancer Marney:
The hell kind of list is this?
5:45 p.m.
• So I stayed 15 minutes past my normal workday and decided to let the better half, who was home sick, know that I was going to be late. As I told her this over the phone, she then said, “Can you stop and get me a Happy Meal?” (I can already hear the “Vyce” jokes being typed.)
FUCK.
No, it’s not that I hate spending money – well, OK, it’s partly that – but it’s more that Happy Meal = McDonald’s, and the only Golden Arches that’s on the way home from work is a shithole. Well, the store itself isn’t too bad, but all their employees are ghetto trash and the service is awful. Every time I have stopped there, I swear to Christ that it takes at least 10 minutes for them to get an order done. But oh well, I’m a great good average at least I don’t cheat husband, so I went.
I pulled in and the first thing I do is make that all-important decision: Drive-thru or in-store? Generally, my rule is if the drive-thru line is a few cars deep I’ll brave this route; otherwise, just go inside. Because there were no cars in plain sight in the drive-thru I figured what the heck and made my choice. Besides, at this store it really doesn’t matter because no matter where you go – you’re going to be waiting regardless. As I pulled to the speaker and delivered my order I looked at my dashboard clock – 3:52 p.m. I had the “Who Made Who” soundtrack playing and skipped to “Chase the Ace,” my favorite track on the album. I love how that shit picks up as the song continues. As much as I like the first track, the self-titled “Who Made Who,” I can only listen to the first two verses before getting bored, and “For Those About to Rock” has the opposite effect for me; I usually fast-forward to around the 4-minute mark when the cannons start firing. “You Shook Me All Night Long” is another solid offering, but, like “Who Made Who,” I start zoning out after the first verse or two. “Sink the Pink” and “Shake Your Foundations” are good tracks to have on as background noise. I generally don’t pay attention to “Hells Bells.” Those other two tracks – eh. Have I mentioned how awful the movie to this soundtrack is?
3:55 p.m. OK, when I placed my order there were only two vehicles in front of me. And the first automobile hasn’t budged. “Chase The Ace” is over and I want more AC/DC, but no more “Maximum Overdrive” memories. I reach into my portfolio bag and pull out “Highway to Hell.” Good enough, I’ll play “Girls Got Rhythm,” which is, at the moment, my favorite track of the album. Still no movement in the drive-thru line.
3:59 p.m. Oh you got to be fucking kidding me. I waited all this time and the motorist two cars down from me got a tiny bag of food? If there were several drink carriers being handed to him I could understand for the delay, but damn. Maybe a new batch of fries needed greased up or a Fillet o’ Fish had to be made from scratch. “Girls Got Rhythm” is over – maybe there’s enough time to hear some local RIGHT-WING RADIO and listen to the idiotic callers bitch about how Pennsylvania has these gay-ass state liquor stores? Seriously, these things are so fucking retarded. No, we can’t buy booze at a grocery store or a Quickie Mart. Why, that would make all of our kids alcoholics because what if they reach for a gallon of milk and accidentally pick up a six-pack of Bud? Then again, because I’m too lazy to head off to one of these government adult beverage centers I don’t buy alcohol, which saves me a few dollars. That’s one of the things I missed about Ohio – being able to buy alcohol any time, any place (well, almost any place). Jesus Christ this line isn’t moving, and there’s only one car in front of me.
4:02 p.m. Well, the top-of-the-hour newscast is beginning, so it’s time to put in another CD. Let’s see, how about “History of the Clash: Volume I”? I’m in the mood for “The Magnificent Seven” – Ring, ring it’s 7 a.m. There we go. And there goes the motorist. Well, this person actually left during “Wave bye-bye to the boss, it’s our profit it’s his loss,” but that wouldn't have sounded as clever. Now it’s my turn to wait. You know what annoys me? When you are waiting in line for other customers that take forever and a day to get their order, and then when it’s your turn the wait is virtually nil and the cashier gets impatient because you have the nerve to double-check your order. And by double-check I mean look into the bag to make sure a burger and fries are in there. Well, that sorta happened when my order was completed, but drive-thru cashiers are more accustomed to customers doing a quick once-over. Hey, my order is here, and it’s 4:07 p.m. Just in time for “Rock the Casbah.” You know, I often defend rappers for sampling music, but what Will Smith did with that “Will 2K” abortion was too much even for me to handle. Let my memories of this song be of that cute armadillo scampering about.
Fifteen minutes, one Happy Meal, three songs and some RIGHT-WING RADIO banter. And the sad thing is, I thought I'd be waiting longer. Nevertheless, Sharif don't like it. But what am I going to do – declare a jihad? I have no children to strap with explosives, and there's no way I'd turn my kitties into martyrs. Considering they are all fixed, I doubt they would be able to do much with their 40 virgins and all.
8 a.m.
• Whenever you think you suck at your job, just read this.
A Park Avenue fertility clinic's blunder has left a family devastated - after a black baby was born to a Hispanic woman and her white husband, the couple charges in a lawsuit.
The mistake, made during in-vitro conception, wasn't discovered until Jessica Andrews was born - and it became clear she didn't look anything like her mom, Nancy, or dad, Thomas, the suit says.
The baby's complexion was much darker than that of her mom - a light-skinned native of the Dominican Republic - or dad.
"Jessica doesn't look like them," said the couple's attorney Howard Stern, of Long Island.
When Thomas and Nancy Andrews asked their doctor, Manhattan obstetrician Martin Keltz, what was going on, he allegedly told them that Jessica's condition was an "abnormality," and assured them she would "get lighter over time," according to the couple's suit, filed in Manhattan Supreme Court.
But they found out the truth when DNA tests proved that Jessica - born in October 2004 - was not conceived with Thomas' sperm.
"Three DNA test were taken, and each one excluded the father," Stern said.
• Al Gore says that the planet has a "fever."
"The planet has a fever," Gore said. "If your baby has a fever, you go to the doctor. If the doctor says you need to intervene here, you don't say, 'Well, I read a science fiction novel that told me it's not a problem.' If the crib's on fire, you don't speculate that the baby is flame retardant. You take action."
So where do we stick the thermometer for a temperature reading?
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