Tuesday

The Fast Food Wars Are Moving

After a long lapse in coverage the Fast Food Wars are now being moved to the Wackemall News Network--  home of Wackemall News and a division of  Wackemall Mining, Manufacturing, Farming & Transportation... Wackemall.com, Leading no one and going nowhere fast....




All the Fast Food archives as well as the latest coverage of the Fast Food Wars will be found there along with Parking Meter Poetry, Billy's Page 3 Girls, Holidaze and more.

Friday

Doing The McCafe Shuffle

Calling In Flavors

Ronald was busy greenwashing when the King, he walked in,
saying, "What are you going to do? Wendy's in Japan
and now she's number 2.
You promised me, if I played your game
they'd all soon get in line
but things ain't working out that way--
your job is on the line!"

So the two of them, they plotted,
plotted all night through,
planning every little step--
just what they plan to do.
I listened in the best I could,
hoping I could defuse it
but just as things got juicy,
someone turned up the music!

What will the red headed clown and BK do next? How about the McCafe Shuffle?

Thursday

I Can't Keep Doing This

Reporting on the Fast Food Wars is a lousy job. For starters, the pay sucks and the hours... Used to be the hours were okay but now that everyone is open late night and early for breakfast, there's no time the war isn't in full swing.

Then there's the fact that no matter how bad the war gets, no one believes it's real. That is, except for those who fried and they ain't talking. There's not a day goes by that I don't tell myself I should get a job flipping burgers somewhere. Problem is, who will tell the story if I don't?

I can't keep doing this but I can't quit.

Fast Food Is A Blast!

Under The Awning

“I’m open late night,”
she reached to take my hand,
“Banana splits, I’m open wide.”
A cream slush, she had planned.

“Sorry Dear, you’re not my type.
See, I prefer Sweet Tea.”
“Tots or fries,” she whispered then.
She’d not give up on me.

Burrito waited just inside.
It was him I came to see.
“Five for five after five on Tuesdays,”
Burrito, he told me.

A coney in the back room,
a shrimp, a jumbo too,
I waved my hand at Burrito.
He knew just what to do.

I made my drive thru the window
when Burrito fired his Sonic Blast!
We left that joint a pile of slush,
their morning drinks their last.

And as we sped away
the Ched ‘R’ Peppers played Salsa on my radio.

This has been yet another Fast Food Delight-- poems made possible without the help of Bank of America.

Wednesday

Fast Food Wars Come To North Carolina

Skipper's Hot Dogs

The King went down to Skipper's Hot Dogs.
Ronald drove the car.
Tired, they pulled in the old drive thru
as they'd traveled very far.
But when the dogs began to bark
Ronald stepped down on the gas
to speed the King far from it all
for fear it'd be their last.


Just a note for those who may not be familiar with my telling of the Fast Food Wars, or the chain of one that is Skipper's Hot Dogs located on East Market Street in Greensboro, NC. As you pull into the drive thru at Skipper's (Formerly Skip's) you are greeted with the recorded sounds of a barking dog on the drive thru speakers before a human takes your order. But as tacky as it may seem and as poor as the building might appear when compared to national chains, Skipper's Hot Dogs are among the best you'll ever taste and just as deadly.

Ode To The Burger King

Have It Your Way

He looks sort of silly a wearin’ that crown.
He cooks good burgers, always perfectly round,
with lettuce, tomato, a pickle or two,
my favorite’s the Whopper, none other will do.
“Have it your way,” we all hear him say,
breakfast, lunch, dinner, open late every day.
Let’s ride through the drive-thru, it stays open late,
and if we are lucky we won’t have to wait
while under his heat lamp he keeps our fries warm.
Shut up, lets eat, enough Burger King poems.

The Meek Shall Inherit Fast Food

Mister Bojangles Revisited

Mister Bojangles, he played his song for me;
played it with a spork,
then he danced the two step,
pawned his tambourine in York.

“Gotta Wanna Needa Gotta Hava,”
he sang his song for me,
climbed out of the dumpster
laughing, “Looks what I gots free!”