A relatively shitty day on Friday was turned around by nothing less than the reappearance of my beloved McRib. This couldn’t have been timed any better if I would have been praying to the gods of pressed and painted pork. I was just getting something for Max and his friend until the announcement sign in the window set me all a-tingle. I think the only way to break this particular addiction would be to enter an untimed quantity contest and I will suggest that on the fan site. (Don’t you dare judge me.)
And now both the TV and the radio are relentlessly taunting me. I will fight the urge today but I will be out of the office all week which means meals on the road and the gravitational pull of slaughterhouse sweepings and barbeque sauce. I have issues.