Kill The Clown

I’m on my way to work with my friend Garrit and naturally we are both starving. He eats about as much as I do. We weren’t sure if we were willing to gamble on family meal at work. The odds are about 1 in 10. So we decided to hit up the drive through, which is consistently greasy and delicious and fast- the American Dream. We both established that we were craving McDonalds chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce like pregnant women. Garrit, who is quite persuasive, convinces me that we both would be better off getting 20 pieces, each. The lady who takes our order can’t quite grasp that we want TWO twenty pieces. Finally she accepts it. We pull forward and the guy at the window looks at us and says, “it’s gonna be a while.” Garrit is like “Oh that’s fine.” The dude continues to stare at us awkwardly. Garrit gets uncomfortable and is like “do you want us to pull forward?” The guy sticks his head out of the window and is like, “Its forty chicken nuggets!”

Yes. I ate them all and two packs of sweet and sour. I don’t even want to go into the nutritional value of that. Or what parts of the chicken McDonalds uses for their nuggets or how much sugar is in one pack of sweet and sour. I just don’t even want to go into that. Well here’s the ihatemylife.com part of this whole story. Last night, I spent a good hour on the bathroom floor reeping the benefits of twenty chicken nuggets and two packs of sweet and sour.