You deserve a brick today

~ Patrick O'Grady
We’re all bozos on this bus. Some of us more than others.

Ronald McDonald’s criminal brother Donald doesn’t exactly inspire me to hit the drive-thru.

Not in the traditional sense, anyway.

I wonder if the folks who actually do a job of work at this location — which was closed to the public for this campaign stunt — got paid for the day.

The union that represents food service workers called this dime-store clown show “a slap in the face to the men and women who work those jobs in real life and make a poverty wage of $7.25 an hour in Pennsylvania.”

What do you suppose would’ve happened if this Mickey D’s had been closed to the public if Fatso just happened to drop by for his usual — two Big Macs, two Filet-O-Fish burgers, and a large chocolate milkshake? He’d have probably told his SS detail to send the grunts to Gitmo and burn the joint to the ground.

But not before he got what he came for.

16 thoughts on “You deserve a brick today”

  1. The minimum wage is $7.25 an hour in Penn and the state might swing for the dumpster? Poor folks working there couldn’t afford to walk out when the asshole arrived. People really are stupid. Probably selling a lot of those $60 “god saved me” bibles that the tool gets printed in China for $3.

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    1. The modern version of kissing the baby, I suppose, hey? But if TFG kissed your baby s/he’d probably come down with the clap, herpes, chlamydia, mono, scarlet fever, meningitis, diaper rash, and a severe allergy to spray-tan. If he handed the kid some fries s/he’d get all that plus a norovirus.

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  2. “I wonder if the folks who actually do a job of work at this location — which was closed to the public for this campaign stunt — got paid for the day.”

    You do really wonder? Yeah well, we know that was a rhetorical question, because we all know that they were stiffed by the one because of corporate policy, and by the other because of sheer sociopathy!

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  3. I suspect the franchise owner was a supporter of S4Bs and probably paid his employees for the time off. I can’t imagine the time off with pay was prohibitively expensive for the owner even if he pays a percentage above minimum wage, and the chance for the publicity was worth it. As an employee it would have been humorous to be present and let slip to S4Bs the comment “You’re fired”.

    But the question I wonder is did S4Bs buy cheeseburgers for his protection detail?

    S4Bs = Mierda por cerebro

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    1. “Why, of course you may be paid for the day. And it’s your last day! You’re fired! Now get the hell out of here! Jeez, these kids today. …”

      “Uh, sir? Willard’s 47.”

      “You’re fired too, wiseass.”

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  4. Aside from this being yet another Dumb Political Stunt, I have a hard time thinking most of the members of either party give a rat’s ass about the so-called common people except when tallying up the votes to stay in power. The GoP will end up looking after the rich while the Dems have, in the immortal words of Paul Begala, “…gone from being the party of the factory floor to the party of the faculty lounge.” Nice article today about how Kamala Harris schmoozed her way to power by rubbing elbows with the rich, famous, and well connected in California. Mind you, she is a damn good and shrewd politician, but still, I hope she remembers where she came from presuming she gets those 270 votes that really count.

    For the working stiff who thinks about it, this McD caper was an obscene stunt. My first job was not in a McD’s but as the summer janitor at the Airways Hotel (at the Buffalo Airport) for ten cents above minimum wage, back in 1972. I think it was a buck eighty five. To me it was a summer job before a full scholarship and college, so I took the sometimes backbreaking work as a chance to stay in shape (I’d just lettered on the track team in my high school). To the maids who worked their year round and were in their thirties, forties, and beyond, it was tiring, monotonous, backbreaking work and obvious to me or anyone who saw them. I would love to see Fatoose the Orange spend a summer humping big laundry bags, pulling room air conditioners out for servicing, and lugging chlorine tanks back and forth to the swimming pool. Might just get him to lose weight.

    Like George Carlin said….

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    1. Ah, the Donks, God love ’em. Hearts in the right place, hands in the wrong pockets.

      I don’t have many illusions about the way I grew up (or older, at least). Born into a middle-class family, dad had a 30-year career with the same company, mom was a homemaker, three hots and a cot, college paid for, a small inheritance split two ways after the folks passed.

      But I did blue-collar work early on, before the newspaper bug bit, and even that wasn’t anything like a proper payday until the end, when I was at The New Mexican. Spent the next 30 years as a privateer, occasionally driven to job actions/threatening bodily harm to get paid. So my sympathies will always be with the working stiff. The world is changing so rapidly that anyone who isn’t born on third base isn’t even in the game.

      And counting on the president to save you is a chump’s game, as we all know. As Hunter S. Thompson noted in “Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail`72”:

      “The whole framework of the presidency is getting out of hand. It’s come to the point where you almost can’t run unless you can cause people to salivate and whip on each other with big sticks. You almost have to be a rock star to get the kind of fever you need to survive in American politics.”

      Nobody gets invited to jump up on the stage to dance with the stars these days. Not unless they throw a bag of cash up there first.

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      1. Hah. I saw that yesterday and didn’t get around to reading it. Thanks for the reminder.

        Miss Mia Sopaipilla is less “zoomy” than she was when she was a youngster (so am I). Back in the Day® she’d suddenly perk up for no good reason, say “Rrr!” and dash madly around the house, under and atop furniture and appliances. Parkour, as author Marina Koren describes it.

        We call it “having a gallivant,” and Mia still does one a couple-three times a week. We think it’s sometimes related to her enjoying a refreshing deposit in the litter box. Mister Boo used to do the same thing. Drop a deuce and he was off to the races.

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