Every restaurant is a McDonalds to people these days, for the very reasons you mentioned. I have colleagues in booko-buck per plate fine dining restaurants that get calls for takeout food, "do you deliver?", "do you do Grubhub/etc.?" They just hang up on them now.
I'll tell you what made my blood absolutely fucking boil. It happened during the "summer of love" 2020, and when the marxists and screeching leftists attacked people in their cars or on the street, then screeched when those same people defended themselves, as if they were fucking entitled to beat down or kill someone, and how fucking dare that person defend themselves. I felt a certain suppressed human instinct starting to come out in me, and I was more than ready for these scum. I'll go to prison before I let these utter pieces of shit take my life. I don't live too near to a big blue city, and the same behavior didn't really take place in this state, so nothing ever happened. But boy, was I ready...
The story that the song is inspired by, "A Nice Morning Drive" by Richard Foster, is a great read- http://www.2112.net/powerwindows/transcripts/19731100roadandtrack.htm
Hilarious. That doesn't make modern dating any less... I'm looking for a word here... atrocious, due to unrealistic standards as dictated by female TikTok "influencers". I'd rather have my fingernails plucked off one by one than waste time and money on some low-IQ dingbat ratchet.
(Disclaimer- I'm already with someone, but I tried the online thing a few years ago.)
Nope. The same old sub-50 IQ, "flexing" delusional fucking idiots who drive with their brights on all of the time, with cars/trucks in front and behind them, doing 100 in a 70, are all I see. This is on I-94 just out of Kalamazoo, though. Mostly rural.
Zero, zilch, nada. I even quit taking ibuprofen a few years ago for mild headaches and other mild aches, and just tough it out. I've never been on prescription meds, nor taken any of the narcos that I was prescribed (never filled the scrips) when having dental or other minor procedures. I never trusted the medical industrial complex from a younger age, and now in my 50s, I know that my distrust was always warranted.
On the other hand, my pill-pushing other half is on a myriad of drugs, has had many useless procedures, and will probably never stop. I say pill-pushing, because she's always trying to get me to take that poison, as she works in the medical field (not a doctor or nurse). I just refuse to talk about it with her and go about my day.