Cow or pickle? you decide!

Good evening,

Let's start off with a little game, It's called Cow or Pickle......

Now it may seem obvious to you, you might have an IQ higher than a lobotomised snail. But for some people it's a whole lot more tricky than you might imagine! Well this is where the story begins.....

It was a dark and stormy night, the rain came down in sheets, Only joking it was grey and overcast. My beautiful, intelligent, witty and classy wife (I had to say this as she might read my blog this time) decided she fancied a gourmet meal at McDonalds. City road in Islington hardly conjures up an image of rooftop garden Bistro's and quality glasses of wine but then neither does any branch of this pox ridden, gutter scraping serving pit of a 'restaurant'. The food is shit, the service is shitter and the staff at this branch couldn't muster the intelligence of a 3 year old if their brains were all glued together.

You know it's going to be hard work when you ask the young lady at the window for a coke and she pronounces it 'cock'.... Love I don't want a cock, I may look like a fat George Michael but that's not how I roll. The rest of the order went remarkably smoothly, that should have served as warning number 1, however in our famished state and with riot police driving up and down the road we were looking forward to escaping.

"And finally can I have a cheeseburger with NO PICKLE please".

"£12.25, window 2"...... You could at least say please or thank you ya miserable illegal immigrant tramp! We roll around the corner to window 2 hitting 3 Somalians, a Nigerian and a token white fella (although I think he was Romanian!)

At window 2 we were greeted by a kid that looked like he'd worn a face mask made of actual killer bee's and been stung by each and every one of them. Nothing makes me look forward to the mustard in my burger than a spot filled with enough bright yellow puss to drown a tiger.

He passed us the bag of food and off we toddled, Kelly unwrapped her burger about 5 minutes down the road and bit into it. The next thing I hear is an angry grunt followed by "What the fucking fuck?".

"What's wrong babe?" I asked, (I call her this as she has an uncanny resemblance to the Holly wood animal star of the same name)

"Check that burger for me". Well asking a fat guy to test a burger is like asking a priest to fancy a choir boy. Now I always fancied myself as a bit of a CSI style investigator so I peered into the bun, not a piece of meat to be seen! Now at this point I know a lot of people will be thinking"But Dave, there's less meat in a Maccy D's Burger than in your average Carrot". My reply would be that eyelid scrapings, ground scrotum and a little bit of rectum is still meat of sorts.

Somehow the silly twunt on window 1 (going by it's number the premier window to work at) had mistaken the word pickle for meat, no pickle.... no meat.... it's an easy mistake to make I guess. Surely it must have been a mistake at the burger construction phase.

Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but how can a cheeseburger still be named so with no fucking burger? It was a cheese (if you can call that fluorescent yellowy orange shit cheese) pickle and onion roll!

I  feel a letter to Ronald is in order, Here it is.


Dear Ronald,

Please can you help me? I am writing in the hope that you can explain to me the selection process for McDonalds staff. Do you pick them according to which one can lick an electric fence for the longest? Or maybe by which staff member is stupid enough to actually order the fillet-o-fish.

After being given a cheeseburger I ordered with no pickle I would like to say I was amazed but actually I really wasn't, to find that my burger not only had2, yes 2! pieces of pickle in it, but the useless bitch on the serving window actually put through my burger order as no meat. I know that accidents happen as I am sure the parents of the girl that served will agree. I mean come on, no meat? Are you actually bloody serious? How can someone be so stupid? Wait don't answer that, she could barely speak English, it's obvious that the words for meat and pickle are similar in Asia. Normally I'd eat my own infected big toe nail rather than frequent one of your poor excuses for a restaurant but sadly some antibiotics I recently took for a chest infection cleared it up so I was stuck with your dross.

Might I suggest the following training courses to help your staff recognise the difference between Animal, Vegetable and mineral.

Course 1: Animal recognition. I feel this might help save a few staff members lives when they go to sweep up what they presume to be a piece of dried out lettuce and actually turns out to be an escaped Lion from London Zoo.

Course 2: Fruit recognition. Whenever I order a strawberry milkshake it seems to always taste of banana. I can suggest a short film I stumbled across while looking for top quality free Hollywood blockbusters. It's called Sally the midget, amputee, Eskimo rides a banana. (I thought the file title said Tron or Superman, HONEST!) They will forever remember that a banana is yellow.

This should help save lives and increase customer satisfaction in your restaurants.

Yours sincerely,


Hamburglar.


I wonder if I'll get a reply, I doubt it.

Much love,

Dave