By now you have probably read Jack Baker’s ham fisted pronouncement of the McRib’s quality and deservedness of being in the March Fatness bracket. You yourself might even be wondering why the McRib didn’t make the list while items like KFC Coleslaw did. You might also be wondering why Jack Baker decided he was ombudsman. If he is complaining about the voting process of these brackets, I have serious issues with his self-appointment as ombudsman. But we will get back to stripping Jack of his responsibilities and firing him out of a cannon towards the sun later. Now, let’s thoroughly and comprehensively explain why the McRib didn’t make the list.
To know how truly awful the McRib is, it is important to explain the history of how the McRib came to be.
In the late 1970’s, failed scientist and Dr. Moreau wannabe Stanislov “Stan” Helsich was trying to invent a super breed of apex predator by combining a wolverine with a crow. he failed in his testing over and over, leaving him with a shortage of ideas, but a stockpile of dead crows and wolverines.
Helsich decided that the best way to get rid of his overage of animal corpses would be to turn them into padding for holding cells for the criminally insane. Using an industrial blender purchased off of a decommissioned Navy ship, Stan mixed the crows and wolverines down into a slurry that would then be hardened and shaped into cell walls.
During this time, though, the scientist became concerned about the well being of his comrades in Yugoslavia. In the waning days of the Cold War, Helsich mixed the wolverines and crows with vats of salt and jello mixture. The final product tasted terrible. But terrible taste, the doctor knew, was meaningless to the wide loads who were making fast food increasingly viable.
Taking his new product to the National Food Convention 93 in Topeka, Stan brought a crude, early version of his slurry to market as a cheap subsitute to soup and chili. Unfortunately, when the product was exposed to air, it immediately began to harden into the texture of an old pillow.
This did not stop the executives of McDonalds from seeing this as a goldmine to people in the midwest who didn’t know what good food tasted like. They paid 2.4 billion dollars to Stanislov Helsich for the recipe, current slurry, and the doctor’s robust amount of dead crows and wolverines.
There was an issue, though. People who were going to enjoy this “food” were more the type of people who ate with their eyes, and not their mouths. First, they had to give it a different name. Dr. Stanislov’s Mcriboflavinosticolatis didn’t have the type of ring to it that people who live in Indiana would gravitate towards. They quickly realized they could shorten it to McRib, because anyone that would eat this garbage had only ever eaten “ribs” out of Swanson Family meals.
They shaped the dead crows and wolverines from form molds they had created years ago during a failed promotion called “McRailroad Happy Meals” where they made chicken nuggets shaped like railroad tracks, and burgers shaped like locomotives. The slurry set into that shape almost immediately, and did not need to be cooked.
Seeing as they were turning it into a rib sandwich, they thought “Hey, we need to make a barbecue sauce so people can slide it down their fat gullets.” They proceeded to mix ketchup with liquefied horse anus to get the desired flavor they were going for. This was after test groups didn’t enjoy the taste of Mayonnaise and liquefied horse anus or Marinara and liquefied horse anus.
Armed and ready with their new sandwich made of dead wolverines, crow, ketchup, and liquefied horse anus, McDonalds was ready to roll it out to the masses. Having already spent an additional 3 billion dollars on R & D, they came up with an ad campaign that was sure to sell. They brought in Dennis Franz of NYPD Blue to be the spokesperson. On three seperate occasions during commercial filming, Franz suffered horrifying seizures related to eating the sandwich.
Undaunted, McDonalds released the sandwich to the masses. Idiots everywhere took notice and lost their collective minds! A sandwich for the masses, screamed the morons. Finally, a sandwich for us! proclaimed the bleach drinking enthusiasts. McDonalds had a problem on their hands though. They almost instantly ran out of dead crows and wolverines.
Realizing that they wouldn’t be able to kill enough of the animals to keep up with demand, McDonalds realized they couldn’t run the sandwich at all times without P.E.T.A. being up their ass. So instead they decided they would run it at limited times.
The seeming exclusivity of the sandwich drove people who consider TGI Fridays classy out of their damn minds. They traveled from McDonalds to McDonalds across the country, chasing down every last McRib available, like white trash locusts. When all of the McRibs were gone, they would go back to their normal lives looking for spare change in vending machines.
Now that we are back up to speed, THAT is why nobody defended the McRib. It didn’t make the list because one person out of a dozen wanted it on the list, and Jack is now tantruming, IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT HE HIMSELF DID NOT VOTE FOR THE MCRIB.
So there you go. If you think the McRib not being on the list somehow invalidates the list, then you probably lost your virginity at an Alan Jackson concert.
If you have a problem with the McRib not being on a fun list we did, then your idea of a good Friday night is anonymously harassing Elizabeth Warren supporters online.
If the McRib not being in the tournament ruins your day, then you are the type of person has to share a facebook account with your significant other.
And most importantly, if you like the McRib, then you have never tasted good food in your life and you shouldn’t be allowed to vote. I don’t even mean our bracket. I mean you shouldn’t be allowed to vote in elections. Nobody who enjoys the taste of dead crow and liquefied horse anus should be given the right to vote.
Oh, and fuck Chik Fil A too. None of their shit even got nominated. Take your pickle brined slimy ass chicken and shove it.
HAPPY VOTING EVERYONE!
Fancy Boys Club 