Feverish Rant on Grimace

I’m still sick. When will it leave? I dunno. But in my fevered state, I read a bulletin from my MySpace bud E. where she complained about the antics of the Hamburgler. Now I have nothing against the Hamburgler, mainly because I don’t eat hamburgers. Sure, he’s running afoul of the law, but it’s not like he’s hiding it or anything…the suit is kind of a dead give away. It’s Grimace that gets me.

I used to like Grimace. In my child world where going to McDonald’s was a rare and special treat, I would get McDonaldland cookies and save all the Grimaces until last. But why, oh why, did the evil McD corp get rid of Grimace’s extra arms? Part of my Grimace love was that he was so clearly a mutant. Not that looking like a furry gumdrop on steroids isn’t enough, but the four arms really sealed the deal for me. Sometime in the 70s, the clown whisked him away to South America for a secret arm-ectomy and he came back as if nothing had happened. (If you secretly removed a third of my appendages I’d complain, pally.) Actually the same thing happened to the Fry Guys – they’re legs were removed and they became Koosh balls given away with Happy Meals.

Come to think of it, he’s also always grinning and stupid…me thinks the Grimace gots a love of the Oxycontin. Call Hazelden, man. Or call me and see if the G-Man’ll hook me up…my head hurts.

For you Brit: Happy Friday, y’all! Where ats my dang Cheetos?