McDonalds? Are You Serious?!

"Hello! Welcome to McDonalds, what can I get you today?"
"Have you met Bessy?"
"Excuse me?"
"Bessy. Have you met her?"
"I'm sorry... I--"
"Bessy. The cow you are currently murdering with your meat musher machine."
"..."
"I'll have a double quater pounder, please!"

I was discussing what ger-rate McDisguting mini drive through conversations would be. Above is the best I could come up with, but slim chance you laughed aloud. Maybe a little 'eep' that sounded riduculous out of the the blue, so you turned it into a casual, "sorry. Sneeze season." Anyway... I mean, the greatest risk I ever took was to check their name tag and yell, "thanks, Bob!" as I drive away, leaving them scrunching their eyebrows together and wondering who the heck just called their name. Some long lost fifth cousin from Sweden? Who knows.
Got anything awesome convos you've been dying to have with the poor drive thru waiter-people who reek of greasy fries and cheese? (Sorry to any Mcdoodles employees out there.) I shouldn't even be laughing, I applied a week ago. Ha! Maybe I'll give you a lil salute as you drive though.
If you have any paralyzing, oh-my-asparagus what just happened?! tricks, spill 'em below.
(In other words, I'm running out of wit. Does any of that even pass for wit? ...cough... )


Okay, So Here It Is

First comment of the week and uber funny. Honestly, I laughed out loud in the middle of class. Great stuff. ...cough... Okay, so I'm trying too hard to be funny...
ANYHOO

i got one where you drive through backwards and as you order you slowly but surly increase your volume so that by the end of your order you end up screaming at them. its a good one believe me i my self Mr. Red has done it.{:P

This was posted by "Mr. Red" (whoever that is....) Alright, I admit it sucks when you know who's posting on your blog, but hey, at least it's a start! kinda... C'mon peeps! Be anonymous! Got anymore? I'm sure you have more.... Spill it like milk homies.

Still Crazy
L.E ;P

For the simple fact that I am painfully un-funny, check thses McDondies pics:
http://www.lolcaption.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/funny-fail-pics-mcfail-mcdonalds-maccas.jpg

http://www.woosk.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/fail.jpg

http://sas.guidespot.com/bundles/guides_n3/assets/widget_bgck2-tlHkcloDEfmOZAE-.jpg

Sorry about the links =( Too lazy, right?

Purple 2

He must feel.

 She must see he is sorry. How could he ever be forgiven? The thought wandered his mind a moment and he reached out and brushed his fingertips along the back of her hand. She shivered away. Grief swept across him as sure as the wind.

Anger grew and spread within her at his calloused touch. How could he possibly believe she would forgive him so easily? He must feel; he must feel the pain he has caused. The tall, sombre grass grazed her thigh and her eyes searched the reddening horizon for something, anything.

He turned his eyes to her face. He watched as her jaw flexed, released, flexed, released; pain flooded his heart. The internal drowning he felt within made itself known and a tear slid down the stubble of his cheek. He was sorry, so very sorry for what he had done. It was only in her best interest, only what was the best for them, he was sure. Obviously, he stood grossly incorrect.

She felt his gaze. Hands clenched, she moved yet another inch away. He had invited her here to speak out his apology, and she decided, that this time she would finally listen. The damage he had done could never be undone, but she so badly wanted to forgive him. Anger had crawled across her heart, and it seemed, that was the only emotion she could feel for him now. The horizon glowed, glowed, glowed with sinister eyes; it welcomed her.

The words he had planned to say blew away with the wind the moment she had arrived. The soft outline of her silhouette against the dancing grass, the image of her violet scarf fluttering in the wind, this scene replayed itself in his mind for the hundredth time. Another wave of sadness rocked him.

He must feel.

Because of the upset overtaking him, he felt nothing when her figure abruptly shot forward to the crimson sky.

Her feet trod in 'thud, thud, thuds' against the grass as it flattened under her footfalls. The horizon grew as she came closer and closer to the crashing waves of the ocean; the orange edge of the cliff.

His hand rose, reached for her in an inadequate motion that somehow symbolized his want for something that could never more be his. His feet, though, remained planted among the grass stretching for miles behind him.

He must feel. He must feel what it is like to have your body torn from inside out. He must feel the sting of loss, of death itself. And she, this distraught girl, would sacrifice her life for that need to feel.

She rose, then fell below the cliff edge.

The ground fell from beneath her.

The world stopped.

Suddenly, she decided against this insane idea. This moment alone would make him feel. A taste is enough. Mid-fall she struggled to turn, reached for the wall of the cliff. Branches tore through its' surface and her arms flew out to grasp one. The skin grated from her hands. Scarlet marked its path along orange.

The grass stilled. Waves froze. His heart stopped. No.

A branch ripped against her fingers and she groped for it. The handhold brought her to a sudden stop.

The world blurred with tears that he had never noticed were falling. His raised hand dropped and he turned away; his hand shook without restraint. Nothing moved as he disappeared from this surreal world. His big red truck loomed as he neared. He would awake soon, he was sure. She would be in his arms in the morning. Her death... Her death. No. So, he supposed, this was what she planned. This is what he deserves. She was willing to sacrifice herself for him to realize, for once in his life, that he was wrong. She was just as crazy as he.

Purple

As if yawning, the tree against his back stretched out its lazy arms toward the sky. The sun's fading, violet light skimmed through the branches and shimmered on his sandy eyelashes.



She will finally admit to him that all she needed was a second.


The exquisiteness of this moment captured his senses, made his heart gallop in his chest and blood flood past his ears breathlessly. Maybe without her, he could live again. A flash of pain tore into his lungs and a gasp followed. Just the thought sickened him; perhaps he could not.


“A phantom of the past…” Words floated in the breeze, sang with the leaves in their ever-changing melody.


“I will be with you at last…” A poem. Smooth, fluid, yet shattering the silence, he continued.


Oh, that tree. She imagined her palms pressed against its steady surface, his hands resting upon her waist…


“Mark after mark…” Golden sunlight glanced off the silver of the blade held between his fingers. A smile felt its way across his mouth. Those branches swayed with gentleness so divine… and he swam in this moment; embraced it.


Her lips finding his…


“I will follow you into the dark…” Carefully, he lifted the tip of the knife to the tender flesh of his forearm; rested it there. It balanced as if it meant to relax there among veins.


But that second had always been betrayed of her, and in desperation, she fled.


Tip pointed to his fingers, eyes raised to the purple sky, back against the hard crunch of bark and legs stretched in the tall grass, he let a sting as sharp as loss itself cut through him. Serene screams pulsated against the lobes of his ears. He pressed yet harder upon the blade and pulled toward him. Life leaked from the wide open vein; poured forth recklessly.


“Beauty, oh, beauty…” He whispered at last. Maroon clawed into his t-shirt, but the pain made everything so much more glorious.


Neither her love, nor her heart had ever stopped beating.


The leaves whispered secrets he had never known; could never speak of. Fingertips of wheat waved a joyous goodbye and he felt the immense impulse to wave back. But, of course, did not.


The dreadful lie was a mistake. Perhaps he will forgive her… A mauve sunset glimmered and she smiled.


“My love, I will be with you at—“ Sharply choked, purple clouded his ocean-blue eyes and the sliver slipped from his fingers.


In silence, she stepped beneath the tree that was so well-known to her. The leaves now sparkled purple from the skies reflection. Her eyes widened, but no tears came as she lifted the bloody knife and curled into his crimson arms.