The Mother Load

Bad things are happening at a McDonald's near you. Check it out.



Because I choose not to have TV in my home, I was not initially aware of McRib: The Return.  I had to learn the terrible news from a sign outside a McDonald's restaurant.  I was driving my kids to children's choir rehearsal when the news hit, and I nearly plowed my car into the one in front of me in my shock and bewilderment.

One look at that sign had me screaming in horror.  "Who let it out of its cage?!" My children, who have never had the dubious honor of eating one these things, were confused by my outburst.  I explained to them that the McRib was a product forged in the fiery depths of Hell and that eating one would result in expulsion from the family.

Okay, so I didn't go quite that far.  I did, however, describe this sandwich as "bluchy."

I know some of you must be disagreeing with me right now. I mean, this is a sandwich that keeps coming back because people keep demanding McDonald's bring it back.  It's safe to say there are McRib fans in my readership.  Feel free to leave a comment on why you think this sad creation has some redeeming value.  I'm more than happy to preach to the choir of McRib haters like me. (Oh, what beautiful music we make!)

So why do I hate the McRib?  This thorough and fairly disgusting deconstruction of the McRib sandwich will give you a pretty good indication.  The McRib patty is loaded with calories, fat, and cholesterol, yet somehow remains completely devoid of actual rib meat.  Newsflash to McDonald's: If it's a patty, you can't call it a rib.

Since 1981, McDonald's has cheerily sidestepped the great "ribs or no ribs" question by forming their McRib patties into the shape of real ribs.  In 1981, I was just turning 5. Do you know what this kind of food fakery does to a 5 year old child?  Do you want to hear about my first experience with actual ribs and the tears and toothaches that followed? Bad form, McDonald's.

And what's with the "limited time" thing?  If you have this many fans of a product, why not offer it every day?  Why keep people waiting and wondering and TRACKING the McRib every year?  If people like this thing so much, why deprive them of it?

I think the answer to those questions would blow the lid off the curious case of the McRib lovers once and for all.  If this were available every day, people would take a closer look at it and realize that this fatty, pork derived patty is the most disgusting fast food creation ever invented, and that's counting the KFC Double Down Sandwich!

How do I know this? Because these exact sandwiches were available for dinner every 3 weeks at the treatment center where I used to work.  We'd get a new troubled teen on the unit, and she'd praise her good fortune upon learning the McRib was somehow available to her.  6 months and many of these sandwiches later, she'd be staging a fight on McRib night in hopes of being served peanut butter and jelly in the time out room as a punishment. 

I hear this MdRib resurrection is only around for a limited time, so if you love it, I'll pray for you.  Also, you should hurry and get one before they're gone. If you're a teenager, you could consider a life of crime and a chance at a treatment center vacation to get more, but I wouldn't recommend it.  The therapy's hard, the beds are uncomfortable, and you'll be sick of it after the 2nd month.

If you're new to the Mother Load, today's post is on the blog to inform you of the most important thing you need to know about me.

I love Weird Al Yankovic.

I love him. I love him more than I love chocolate, more than I love Star Trek, more than I love poking fun at the unfortunate grammar decisions of others. Long time readers of the Mother Load know that all three of those things are pretty darned high up on my list of loves.

The only reason I'm not married to Weird Al today is that we've never officially met. Also, he married She Who Must Not Be Named before I even had a chance. (Actually, Suzanne is quite lovely, and I hope someday to call her my friend...the friend who stole the man I love.)

Anyway, I was over at Weird Al's website today, as I am wont to do, and saw a link to this wholly fake but completely hilarious trailer for a biopic of Weird Al's life. Ten points to Mother Load readers who identify the real Weird Al in the video.  Just don't gaze at him too lovingly.  He's mine!  Okay, he's not mine, but he should have been!

(Note: Al has never actually been an alcoholic, he never dated Madonna, and his real life parents were loving and supportive.)

Mom, today I learned that the Double Rainbow thing is getting out of hand.



Seriously out of hand.

 

Mom, today I learned that when a dear friend offers to take my kids for the evening, "...so you can work," this is what I will do instead.

(Author's note: The dear friend in question was more than happy to learn how I took advantage of the kid free night.  Someday soon, I'll talk our husbands into taking the kids for an evening, and I'll make steak for her.  Googoo eyes will depend on what she wears to dinner...)