Upon reading this self-satisfied piece of nonsense, my first guess was that this guy is a New York metrosexual…He’s written for such bastions of real America as The New York Times, Harvard Design Magazine, and Smithsonian Magazine. He is, of course, from New York City.

Woof! Todd is scarier looking without the chin mullet.
~

Adding to the stuffy, smarminess of the piece Vanderbilt insists on the more staid handle “drive-through” instead of the more colloquial and well-known “drive thru”…

That Maoist elitist son-of-a-bitch!

If only they would open up a Cheetos and Mountain Dew express drive-thru lane at his local market Todd would be in heaven.

Maybe it ruins it if I go ahead and ask this, but how do you reconcile calling liberals “elitist” or “unpatriotic” with condemning entire states/fucking SEABOARDS as “not real America”? I mean, wingnuts love furiously humping TEH FOUNDERZ as the ultimate moral authority; what would they say if they learned that George Washington gave far more of a shit about New York and Boston than he did about, say, Iowa?

From the piece Huston criticizes: the driver momentarily breaks her sense of hermetic enclosure, while the fast-food employee briefly thrusts himself out of the window, the two meeting amid the sickly sweet commingling of ambient grease and tailpipe exhaust.

So I have to admit I agree with him about the stuffy smarminess of the thing.

I’ve never much liked using the drive-through, though, and I moved my bank account when my old bank went to an all-drive-through ATM system and would yell at you for walking up to them.

It must really piss you off.

Yes, it does. The most anger-making drive-through of all has to be Sonic, with that new giant burger they make, especially if you were to buy and eat four of them. I’m vegan, so that makes me triple-angry with bacon sauce.

(Sure, it’s a fake troll, but that was fun.)

There’s a place near here that it is a drive-through liquor store.

I don’t think it’s called the “Drive and Drink”, but it should be.
~

No, please, don’t eat shit food and refuse to exercise. It pisses us off so bad. You better not. I mean it. And whatever you do, don’t you dare be a racist, colonialist patriarchy-reenforcing fascist and put Drano in your regular Coke. I’m warning you.

My state was still on the Coast, so I’m an elitist lib faggot.

The Slate piece is commonplace feature fluff. What’s funny (or typical for RA) is Warner Todd’s factless rant about it is actually a couple hundred words longer than the original.

So I have to admit I agree with him about the stuffy smarminess of the thing.

The lines Huston quotes do indeed make my skin crawl, but most of Vanderbilt’s article is pretty readable.

Always… trust the shorter.

This guy writes like a high school freshman. His use of passive tense and double-dependent clauses ‘n such is cruel to behold. From the first par:
And, worse, it doesn’t even pay off fulfilling the premise of its headline. Remember that time you paid off fulfilling something, and right after that you reaped the fruits of your reward?
He does, however, conclude with a mea maxima culpa adipatum worthy of any sadlynaught’s trophy box:
All I can say is… “I’ll take a number three meal, and King size it, baby!”
Booyah.

List ye well, fudgepackers: I haven’t been to a McDonald’s in 22 years except once, and that was in India to purchase a chai, so I get pretension points. This is because I am a vegetarian, which is CENTRAL TO MY POINT.

But the concept of the drive-through window is brilliant, uniquely American, and STARTED ON THE FUCKING WEST COAST, you MIDWESTERN LARD-ASS FUCKNUT!!! So there you have it from a Marxist lib. I don’t even eat the stuff, and I admire the drive-through window.

Badgers!!!

I haven’t read Slate in years and years, and I see I haven’t missed anything. Sad, though, that they should print such sophomoric stuff when there are so many fine, and funny writers on the web.

And another thing: Jack In The Box chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream topping, and a maraschino cherry to top it off are….to die for? Luckily for me, the only JITB in the area has a crappy drive-through speaker system, so I rarely visit them.

Only I get to decide who’s a real Murkan. I’m way cooler than John Adams, John Hancock, Ben Franklin or any of various other people who did more with their lives than sit on their fat, unemployed asses and talk about how they were “defeating libs” by cramming lard into their arteries, pausing occasionally to try unsuccessfully to find their penis.

Never mind “always trust the shorter”. I’ve long since learned that lesson. What I apparently still need to learn is that your links often lead to the shittiest writing imaginable. That Huston piece is just lousy fucking writing. If a high school student wrote like that, I’d kick him in the nuts.

Perhaps some type of warning is in order: Shorter contains appallingly bad prose. May cause ruination of day, broken monitors, extreme high blood pressure. Patients with respect for the English language should not click on Shorter.

Anything that doesn’t go along with my argument was a fluke. It doesn’t count.

I think he used so many cliches his butt buddy Jonah Goldberg is gonna have to kill him. “If brevity is the soul of wit…” BANG.

Me at Jack in the Box:
Speaker located at tire-level: Rugmytb?

Me: I’d like order a chicken fajita and a small chocolate milkshate.

Speaker: Dave’s not here, man.

Yes, I read the shorter and wanted more confirmation. I got a boatload, like this:

because one has to wade through paragraph after paragraph of fluff, puffery, oh, so clever verbiage, and word play befitting the snark of an over educated easterner before one comes anywhere near any examples of how drive thrus are endangered in America today.

Mr. Huston would be quite adept at wading through paragraph after paragraph of crap writing if he would bother to proof his own work.

Then he’d do what many like myself do when we write what we think is a great work of snarky genius: look at it ten minutes later when we’re not so offended by, or jealous of, the writer we pretend to critique and say, “Well, wasn’t that a foolish waste of my time, thank god I feel better now.”

and hit the delete key. And I usually don’t even waste more than two paragraphs to get to that point.

He rattled out an entire conglomeration, posted it on a blog and sits back in sanguine celebration at his believed genius.

I’m a jobless fatass and the deep South didn’t vote for a black guy. This means I WIN!

And before you point out your home state went for Hopey in 2008, that was just a fluke.

No, this is just a fluke.

Speaker at almost any fast food place: ALSDIJFGILKADJSFGLKAJSDFLAKJSDF!!11!!

Me (holding my head in agony): Um…I’d like a cochlear implant, please.

I’m very successful, which is why the best way I can spend an afternoon is to gloat about how much my mantits piss liberals off. Hell, that’s all I seem to have to do on ANY day. To say nothing of my obvious homosexuality.

–>
Above: my penis.

Mmmm, this Taco Bell really unclogs me. That chicken Gordita went through me like a bloody Ferrari.

But then the principal of the high school would realize an obese twenty-eight-year-old was in the building beating up students and call the cops.

I dunno whether Troofie as Internet Tough Guy or Troofie claiming to have a job is more comically sad.

See, I’m conflicted. I live in New Orleans where the food is so bad for you, your cholesterol hits dangerous levels just walking down the street. However, it’s full of three things conservatives hate: minorities, gays and people enjoying themselves. Red or Blue?

Real American food is all about french fries

I don’t have the heart to tell him that french fries are, you know, french.

Well, Belgium anyways, but close enough.

The fact is, Troofie didn’t call them “freedom fries” so he hates USA.

Those faggy socialist Canadians put gravy and cheese curd on their fries. Hah!

Hey dumbfuck, they have french fries in other countries.

I have nothing against drive throughs. I do have something against relying on them for much of your food however. I’m totally creepily stalkerishly pervertedly in love w/food…just not stuffing my face with empty calories.

But Troofie, Obama smokes cigarettes. Why are you such an America-hating, Hopey-loving, terrorist-fellating librul pussy bitch?

Also: awwww, new Troofie man-crush! Complete with aggressive, masturbatory interrogation about something really, really stupid!

Last night I made chicken enchiladas with a pumpkin sauce and home made salsa. So there.

That thing a’int[sic] for tree huggers, that’s for sure!

Yeah, enormous bellies make it hard to hug trees; can’t get close enough for any action.

Real American food is all about hamburgers, french fries…

… frankfurters, bologna, danishes, Salisbury steak, cheddar …

All the blacks fled New Orleans after Katrina, Matt.

You’ve obviously never been here. Regardless, plenty of homosexuals and people enjoying themselves. That’s gotta piss you off.

Obama can probably even eat a pretzel without damn near killing himself.

I’m not surprised Chumley sings the glories of fast food. Doesn’t seem to notice that all the chains now offering low-fat options and semi-vegetarian entrees. We can all still have our gut-bombs, but now we can other things too. While the intelligent people vary their diets, the wingtards can exclusively chow down on, what they think, big greasy grubclusters that taste like victory. The Hallejulah! Burger with four deep-fried pickle chips, three strips of bacon, two slices of american cheese, and a fried egg in a pear tree.

Is anyone, anywhere surprised to hear me expressing my hatred for women? Vaginas are icky! I just wish there was some strong, virile Republican senator to hold my Wendy’s-engorged bulk in his arms on the cold Red State nights. I bet McConnell pissing on me would really piss you libs off!

I also leave all the lights in my home (read: basement) on all the time and drive a car that gets 10 miles to the gallon because I imagine it pisses off someone imaginary. However, I do recycle my many beer cans, because fuck knows I need the spare change.

So for 10 paragraphs we read and read and read expecting to see why America has soured on the drive thu as promised only to find out it really isn’t America that has soured on the drive thru at all.

In fact the Slate article is twelve paragraphs, while the Huston article complaining about the Slate article – including how long it is – is twice that depending on how charitable we are with the block quotes.

From the above picture of all of his chins, I would never have guessed that Mr. Warner Todd Huston* loved him some fast food, all the time.

*Is that a name-that-got-me-my-ass-kicked-in-middle-school, or what?

So, Supersize My Belly & Make It Hard To Run From Mooslems was kill-filed. I guess he was the real Troofie, then, stalking Tintin again. Someone should have mentioned to the Troofus that JESUS was probably a vegetarian.
Where is his account coming from, anyway?

enjoying my McDonalds Third Pounder

Strange euphemism for cocksucking there.

that was just a fluke.
You know, if a diver went too close to a whale and got clobbered by its flipper, the headline could be “Man Injured in Fluke Accident”.

the food is so bad for you, your cholesterol hits dangerous levels just walking down the street. However, it’s full of three things conservatives hate: minorities, gays and people enjoying themselves.

Urp.. I thought those were crawdads.

And, worse, it doesn’t even pay off fulfilling the premise of its headline [Has the American romance with the drive-through gone sour?].

20:1 he expected literary fast-food porn.

But srsly I’ve only been to New Orleans once and loved, loved, loved the food. If I lived there I’d have reached Goldbergian proportions by now.

The last time I used a drive-thru…

Wait, that didn’t come out right.

The last time I bought fast food at the drive-through window (FY, Huston) was last February, at 12 midnight, during a drive from Fresno to Concord, where I lived at the time. They have their uses.

Wait, that didn’t come out right, also.

Best reinvention of a renaissance painting so far, btw.

You know, if a diver went too close to a whale and got clobbered by its flipper, the headline could be “Man Injured in Fluke Accident”.

You know, i just saw that happen on Discovery about a week ago. I am disappointed in myself that this headline did not occur to me at the time.

The last time I used a drive-thru…

well, that explains why the speakers don’t sound right.

“I am so offended that there is someone in the world who actually expresses their dislike of drive thrus that I’m going to take my already-oversized ass to a Micky Ds right now and stuff my pie hole with artery-clogging, unhealthy crap that vaguely resembles food. That’ll learn those elitist coastal libruls.”

There is nothing these people won’t shit their pants over, except for important things.

Knowing and using big words = liberal elitism

Oh, dear! I shouldn’t like to be thought of as pretentious! I must forthwith eschew all pretentious phraseology such as “that is but a quibble”.

When I think of journalism dying, I think of a CNN reporter suggesting that we shouldn’t question the government, at all, after 9/11. Had I understood that the real issue was drive-thru windows at fast-food restaurants I would have just blown my brains out.

Well, WTH, aside from the unfortunate acronym his initials denote, is the genius who, when he wrote at Trike Force HQ (redstate.com for the uninitiated), used the term ‘noblesse oblige’ to refer to Obama’s supposed uppitiness, uh, I mean arrogance.

He eventually stopped doing so after someone apparently informed him of this think called a dictionary. But it just goes to show this whopperchomper’s level of smartitude…

In fact the Slate article is twelve paragraphs, while the Huston article complaining about the Slate article – including how long it is – is twice that depending on how charitable we are with the block quotes.

The internet tradition of the ‘shorter’ is worse than low-calorie snacks. Supersize my commentary!

“Warner Todd Huston, if I catch you pulling an ‘American Pie’ with that Number Three King-sized AGAIN TODAY, I am disabling your broadband or whatever that’s called!”

The last thing Warner Todd Huston hears his mother yell down to the basement before he unzips his cargo pants…

If I want to kill my appetite, walking past a McDonald’s usually does the trick in two seconds flat – that reek is about as appealing as an Ipecac Milkshake.

PROTIP: you can tell which places are worth spending money at by activating a high-tech remote-sensing module known as your nose – if the aroma induces instant drooling, you know you’ve hit pay-dirt.

The best burgers I’ve ever sampled all came from no-name greasy spoon diners. None of them were going to win any awards for decor or ambience, & the clientele were often straight out of “Rod Serling’s Night Gallery” – but it’s what’s on your plate that counts.

He wrote his article huffing on drive-thru fumes. Ah, morning coffee just doesn’t taste the same without that aroma of N2O, CO, CO2, and long-chain particulates…

I’ve never much liked using the drive-through, though, and I moved my bank account when my old bank went to an all-drive-through ATM system and would yell at you for walking up to them.

Rah rah, yes, an entity after my heart, Xecky. I walk/bike everywhere and enjoy being able to just stroll into places and if I am in my[ wife’s] car there’s really nothing I hate more than hearing that poor engine torment itself while idling. Sweet machine does not deserve that kind of treatment.

Man, the thought of all that stopping and starting, stopping and starting is making me want to chuck my cookies.

And maybe it’s just me, but I always feel like a fool hanging out of my driver’s side window and shouting at a metal grille.

The best burgers I’ve ever sampled all came from no-name greasy spoon diners. None of them were going to win any awards for decor or ambience, & the clientele were often straight out of “Rod Serling’s Night Gallery” – but it’s what’s on your plate that counts.

Ground armadillo?

Those that can’t, write for Renew America.

He haz bukit?

not a gator, I agree about the fumes, particularly if I am behind some yahoo’s diesel F350 or an old V8 that needs rings.

what I find funny is that it is often faster to park and go inside than to wait idling in the drive-thru lane.

Oh, and WTH is still an idiot. Also.