As a society, we have all sort of cultural touchstones that we use to explain how something is extreme.  Generally, there are words or terms that immediately describe how something is the best, worst, biggest, etc.

For instance, when someone deigns something the most evil thing in the world, they call upon the thing we all agree is the representation of all that is vile: Hitler.  You may hear people say things like, “that woman behind the counter at the DMV was like Hitler,” or “only Hitler would oppose gay marriage,” or the very popular, “dude, your balls smell like Hitler.”

One of these cultural touchstones we have is McDonald’s.  Generally, we use Mickey D’s when we’re trying to describe the shittiest job imaginable.  Parents across the world warn their children that if they underachieve, start drugs, or get pregnant at a young age, they will suffer the most degrading fate possible – having to work at McDonald’s.  It’s the one universal concept in the world – even kids in Bangladesh behave themselves for fear of having to one day fry burgers at the Golden Arches.

And that’s why I think McDonald’s employees deserve more credit.  They make crap money, and they have the one job that everyone universally agrees is the worst imaginable job in the world.  They slave over hot grease and have all these food Hitlers trying to convince people that the burgers they make are a secret plot to kill minorities.  (See what I did there?)

And I don’t even know how McDonald’s ended up in the crosshairs.  The Big Mac is like a piece of celery compared to the euthanasia burgers they serve at Burger King.  In 34 states, it’s illegal to carry a concealed Taco Bell grilled stuf’t burrito.  But for some reason, it just seems that people have it out for McDonald’s and that’s that.

So I salute you, Golden Arches employees.  Sometimes, you even get my order right.  You deserve more than the universal scorn of the world.  You keep the economy moving, you pay your taxes, and your extra large straws make the Coke taste even better.

And as long as we’re at it, I propose ditching all of these words that people have grown accustomed to using to make a point.  Like when people say things are selling like “hotcakes.”  I have yet to see any instance where there was a shortage of hotcakes due to their overwhelming popularity.

Also, I take offense when people say a woman is “as fat as a cow.”  In actuality, cows really aren’t that fat – if they were, they wouldn’t turn into such delicious steaks.  In the future, when you want to insult a woman, please pick a much fattier animal that will be equally as hurtful to her self image.

As I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog, I play in a Monday night golf league.  (I would mention what place I’m in, but let’s just say I don’t want to jinx it.)

On the seventh hole of the course where we play, a family of foxes live.  And when we congregate after our rounds to drink beers, someone inevitably has a story about the foxes – 90 percent of which are apocryphal.  It’s always like, “man, one of the foxes ran off with my ball,” or “my ball went into a fox hole,” or “one of the foxes cooked me up a hamburger,” or some such nonsense.  80% of them are good stories, most of them are 100% false.

But this week, we had a guy walk up to his ball, only to see one of the foxes hovering over it.  After a few seconds over the ball, the fox quickly ran off.  (Presumably, it wanted to catch some of the Sotomayor hearings.)

When he walked up to his ball, the guy saw this horrific sight, and took the following picture.

Yes indeed, the fox dropped a deuce on his ball.  Well not ON, but close enough.  Apparently, he was allowed to take an unplayable lie.

And as it turns out, given my score, I did the same thing on the course that the fox did.  Only metaphorically.