October 24th - North Charleston

I'm suddenly alive with fire and fury; the wealth of the world's satisfaction has shorn through my veins. A week of canned foods has whetted my appetite for gastronomical satisfaction, and the commercial food industry has acquiesced to my demands. Bow down to the not-so-mighty giant of Ruby and her Tuesdays for delivering on her promise of a burger triple primed with excellence. Staring down those golden arches from across the Southern sub-interstate I waft in the satisfaction that can only come from the discipline of abstinence, followed by the din of reverie. The Spartan lifestyle demands the occasional self-indulgence, and this one was sweet, dressed in similarly Spartan condiments and a split bun. Tonight far more than triple prime was on the menu; tonight the entree was victory, with a side of emancipation; from inferior-quality burgers, and adulterated sides. Tonight we danced in the funeral pires of corporate burgerworld at large, wiped the sauces off our chins, and tasted adulation;  it tasted great.