Don’t be that guy (or gal): Trans fat RAAAAGE!

Gentle reader (as Dear Abby used to say), there are times in life when we are all going to get upset.  Bad things happen that can be the turd in the punchbowl of an otherwise glorious day of magic, wonder and dancing unicorns.  However, the level of passion you bring to a situation should… well… match the severity of that situation, n’est-ce pas?  Are we all generally on the same page?  Yes?  Glorious!

With that firmly established piece of common ground, I would suggest that if you feel an overwhelming need for your local McDonald’s to provide you with the crispy, heart-stopping deliciousness known as McNuggets at 2:30 AM and they are only serving breakfast… umm… you just may want to refrain from punching the drive through employee in the face.  Hypothetically.  Or punching the drive through window itself.

Or how about this gem caught on video when a McDonald’s patron is less-than-appreciative of her order being scerwed up?

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Those trans fats must have some of that crazy rage virus from 28 Days  Later in them or something because outside of that, there is nothing approximating a rational explanation for these people..  I mean, McDonald’s does have a semi-tasty item or two, but it’s not like we are talking about a Five Guys burger or something.  Now THOSE are worth a first-class freak out and mop bucket throwing for good measure.

Morale of the story: If you ever find yourself feeling any level of anger over the lack of breaded and deep-fried chicken parts at 2:30 AM, you may need to change up your diet… and see a therapist… and wear thickly-padded gloves that do not break either faces or drive through windows.

Don’t be that guy – 911 as a cab service

Something I used to do at a previous blog was a theme I called “Don’t be that guy” and since I enjoyed doing it so much, I’ve brought it here.  Why?  Because not being “that guy” will 100% fit in with the goals of this site… because this site is against douchebaggery in all of its various incarnations.

And what a fine first example!  Folks, if you were to hear of someone being super drunk and calling up 911 numerous times claiming to either being beaten or shot at… but actually just wanted a ride to another bar… do you think he would look like the eternally classy Cary Grant (pictured here)?  Or maybe… just on an off-chance… he might look a little like this?  Not that I would judge a book by its cover or a super-sketchy dude with greasy hair by his facial tattoos.  Not me.

And really?  You thought you could somehow fool the police into taking you to another bar by saying you were being shot at?  How exactly was that conversation going to play out?  “Officer… these dudes… I think they were ninjas or something… they were all shootin’ at me and I was all like… POW!  BAM!  And totally dodging bullets… and so now if you could just take me to Louie’s Pub, I would be totally stoked.  For reals.”

Life is a right pageant, people.  Never forget it.

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