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October 24, 2009
Although the smell of McDonald's offerings can appeal to me in a bizarre way if I come across it in passing -- say, while pirouetting by the open doors of the "restaurant" or sashaying past some hapless schmoe cramming a Big Mac and french fries into his fry-hole on a park bench in the open air -- it is not a smell that I wish to encounter in environments where I am held captive. (Take note, prospective alien abductors.) This is particularly true of airplanes, where there is absolutely no way to escape. Certainly I deserve a break today, don't I?