|Hello, Old Friend|
Your mediocre BBQ sauce and molded meaty bone pattern by themselves are disgusting, but together? Somehow the combination creates an absurdity of flavor.
|Oh Fuck... I'm going to regret this.|
You have a cheap, sometimes soggy, bun. It barely contains your slopping heaves of sauce.
|Oh well, here goes.|
I normally don't like onions or pickles, but when they are liberally scattered on your glistening, mechanically separated hide, I devour them like like a 10$ whore giving a 100$ blowjob.
I told you last year McRib, that it was over. I couldn't see you anymore. But here you fucking are, sticking your porky flavored ass back into my business.
What the fuck McRib? If I buy you in as a Meal Deal, I can get a second one of you for only 1$? I fucking hate you McRib.
I know that your patty is made of restructured meat products. It just makes you more exotic. You can taste every bit of blended heart, stomach and salt.
I am nothing but patient McRib! Also, for some reason you are much more delicious after having been sitting out for an hour. There is no need to reheat you, McRib.
Almost every time I devour you I find a little chunk of cartilage that pops in my teeth. It makes me gag and I spit out the mouthful of you containing the chunk. Once the nausea passes, I finish you.
|All gone in 5.5 Bites|
McRib...... I wish I never fucking met you. I am going to eat a second one of you and in return, I am going to get diarrhea.
|The Fucking McRib|
I am never going to fucking eat you again McRib. Don't talk to me if I show up to get some McNuggets. Just pretend that we never met. I don't want to have to hate-fuck you ever again. It always ends badly.