Like any other human being not born in the deep Amazon or the high Tibetan plateau, I’ve eaten at McDonald’s.
As I aged, the habit dropped off…but there were still moments when I was in a hurry, hungry, and the familiar golden arches were just…there.
But I began to notice that every fucking time I ate that crap I felt terrible. The fries were ok. The ice cream is still manageable on a hot day. And, for some reason, I’ll still take a McMuffin in the morning on rare occasions. But anything else makes me feel, quite literally, ill.
A few years ago, I found myself swearing, each time I forgot and ate some disgusting thing from McDonald’s, that I would never make that mistake again. Then, six months would go by, I’d be hungry and in a hurry…and there were those fucking golden arches.
It has now been, with the exception of the aforementioned ice cream, about two years since I’ve eaten McDonald’s food. I didn’t need any better reasons to quit stuffing their repulsive crap into my mouth, but I found some.
Wanna know what’s REALLY in a Big Mac?