Why Marilyn Hagerty's Review is Ridiculous

Now, I'm the first to acknowledge that I hate the country.  I would never live anywhere that has any less than half a million inhabitants, unless that place is an internationally-recognised tax shelter (like the British Virgin Islands), or has lots of character (like most small towns in Europe).  My favourite locations include places like Toronto, New York, London, Tortola, and Barcelona; this is in contrast to the Canadian prairies, or Didcot in England, where the air stinks of horse shit and tractors on the road are a common sight.  There are a few reasons why I hate the rural parts of the world, all of them related.

I consider news to include things such as murders, multi-car pile-ups, political campaigns, protests, and celebrity deaths.  A cat stuck in a tree is not news; neither is a traffic accident that incurs no injury or death.  If you think non-news events like this belong in the newspaper or on the telly at six o'clock, you are deluded.  Furthermore, university education is supposed to be the rule, not the exception.  If the whole community honours (or worse, mocks) a handful of residents because they have an education beyond high school, what does this say about the intelligence of everybody else?

Shopping at Carrefour, TESCO, or Sainsbury's (Wal-Mart, Target, or Costco for the Yanks and Canadians reading this) is supposed to be routine, not some sort of special occasion.  I think of it as a weekly thing—if I'm out of sugar, I go to TESCO to buy it.  How can you possibly survive going shopping once every three months?  If there are no national or international chain hypermarkets within ten minutes of your place of residence, why the hell are you still living there?

The reason I love huge chain hypermarkets is the same reason I hate huge chain restaurants: character, or lack thereof.  I can go to a Carrefour in Exeter and expect it to carry the same selection of items as found in a Carrefour in Paris, not to mention London.  With goods that are superior when mass-manufactured, such as automobile tyres and household goods, I expect them to be completely identical.  However, I refuse to eat (and pay a premium for) so-called meals microwaved from frozen and served to me.  This is why I eat at places with actual character.  If I want doughnuts in Toronto, I buy them at Dimpflmeier's, a German bakery with an attached café.  If I want bagels, I'll go to Kiva's or What-A-Bagel, two authentic kike bakeries.  Now, I wouldn't give kikes business, except for the fact that bagels are a kike food.

If you're going to go against what I say and eat at a chain place, here's this piece of incredibly secret knowledge accessible to only an elite cabal of foodies: all of what you eat in one location will be accessible at and be cooked to the same recipe as at a location on the other side of the world.  By the way, if you couldn't detect it from my tone (or are an aspie, retard, moron, or eejit), there is no secret cabal—I was being (gasp!) sarcastic.  There is no elite cabal—everybody who isn't an aspie or a retard knows this.

If you're scratching your head and wondering why the bloody fuck I'm writing this, that's okay.  While I was watching the Chicken Noodle Network today in the throes of a bupey high, I heard something about some sort of viral restaurant review.  I Googled it, and was shocked to read that some old biddy in the backwoods of North Dakota had, in absolute honesty, reviewed the local Olive Garden, of all places, for her town newspaper.  If you haven't eaten at Olive Garden for fifteen years or so and remember it only for its mediocre food, please note that this so-called restaurant has transitioned to serving microwaved frozen food—glorified T.V. dinners, in other words.  Also, Olive Garden is about as authentic as silicone implants, and as Italian as any of the characters on Jersey Shore, especially Jennifer "J-Wow" Farley.  I had to triple-check whether this hadn't somehow been reprinted from The Onion.  It hadn't been.

Please, rural America, I know you're stupid... but don't be that stupid.  Don't vote for Rick Santorum, go to university, and, above all, don't review fast food places and big T.V. dinner chains.