Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "The first woman was created from the rib of a man. She was not made from his head to top him, nor from his feet to be trampled on by him, but out of his side to be equal to him."
It gives one pause to think, "What would Holmes have said of the McRib sandwich?"
REWARD: $2.99 Personally, I think he would have said something like, "The McRib sandwich was made from what I guess is probably meat. Maybe it's head meat. I dunno. It's about as good as getting head." Either that, or he would have just said, "Holy shit this is awesome! I can get this at fucking McDonald's!?"
Of course this is only speculation. We don't know for a fact what Oliver Wendell Holmes thought about McDonald's. Maybe he preferred Burger King. (He certainly didn't seem like the Hardee's type.) What we do know is that he thought highly of women, which sort of kind of almost brings us to today's topic.
Sex and the McRib: I hate watching fat people have either of them.You see, I was elated upon hearing word of the reintroduction of the glorious McRib at Mickey Dees, and I immediately began scanning the webernet to find out whether or not this would be a permanent arrangement. Alas, it is not. The McDonald's Corporation is planning to once again heartlessly steal the McRib away from us. (Just like they stole all those puppets from Sid and Marty Krofft, the bastards.) But, during my search, I stumbled upon something that tickled my fancy. It was a forum somewhere, where people were arguing about whether or not the McRib sandwich was in fact "better than sex."
This is a heady topic folks, to be sure, and one I'd like to weigh in on.
Personally, I think sex is rad, while the McRib sandwich is totally bitchin'. On the scale of outdated 80's valley girl slang (which I frequently employ), bitchin' and rad are neck and neck. Therefore, in true Oliver Wendell Holmes fashion, I'm going to have to say that the McRib sandwich is of equal value to sexual intercourse.
One could, of course, argue that there are situational variables involved. For example, the McRib sandwich could, on occasion, have one of those little pieces of gristle in it, or the sex you have could be with Carrot Top. Regardless, the staggering number of similarities between the two phenomena is myriad, and simply cannot be ignored.
In fact, in keeping with the theme of extremely old and dead poets, "let me count the ways" in which the McRib sandwich and sex are the same:
- I haven't had either of them in years. Haha! Only kidding of course! (No, seriously, I really am kidding. You've gotta believe me!)
- Both of them leave stuff all over your face.
- Both are hot and drippy.
- If you enjoy an infinite amount of either, it will most likely kill you.
- They are both best enjoyed while naked.
- Whenever I'm having either of them, I think about Mac Tonight, the disturbing, moon-faced piano player.
- I hate watching fat people have either of them.
- I would throw a nun under a bus for either of them.
- When you finish either of them, you long for another taste, but then they disappear, leaving you empty, desperate, and suicidal for long periods of time.
One cold hard fact remains though. Six months from now, if you happen to be girlfriendless, horny, and desperate for even just a dollop of sex, you know deep in your heart that you'll be okay, because you will always be able to find a lonely ugly chick or a prostitute. But let me ask you this, my friend, when you're done with that hollow mechanical sex, and you need something to fill that void deep down inside of you, something warm, tasty, and vaguely reminiscent of meat, will you be able to find a McRib sandwich? Food for thought people, food for thought.
So even though I love them both equally, for the time being, I'm afraid, given the choice, I'll have to follow the timeless words of yet another super old, dead poet: "Two paths diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both, I took the one that had a McDonald's on it."
I may have paraphrased slightly.