When I walked down the street yesterday I saw a small lonely french fry in the ground where it had fallen from some person’s red little cup of potato from the restaurant they had recently visited.
As he picked yet another salty piece, unable to stop, he made a face at his friends as they teased him. The boy was fairly average weight, but all his buddies like to tease him that if he kept eating McDonald’s, no girls would want to go out with him.
the fries were cold—it wouldn’t be the first time. there was always something cold around here–the fries jsut another consistency added to the list. she cared not to warm them. what use what it do? they would only be warm for a short time before cooling again. as with all things. the fries were no different. every bit the same.
“Hello, this is Mr Mac Donald.
“Hello, is this Mac Donald, the red and white stripey guy?” asked the Totally Horsey Person (Me)
(Sigh) “Yes, the actual Mac Donald.”
“I would like to ask if there is any horse meat in your burgers?”
“Err, there is no horse meat in the burger. Actually no meat at all.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Okay, I would like to order the french fries, please.”
A really good weight gainer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Terrible for someone who wants to stay slim.
Bad for someone who is on a diet.
But absolutely delicious as a little snack now and then!
“Where are my fries?” Jim looked up at Bill in anger. “They always seem to forget the goddamn fries.”
“Jim, chill man. I’ll go ask.” Bill stood up from the table.
“No. I’m not going to chill. These people can’t do their damn job.” He removed a small handgun from his pocket. “I’m going to show them what happens when you act like a goddamn idiot in my town.”
“Do you want fries with that?”
“No, I’d rather eat apple slices. That’s why I came to the greasy spoon in five states. For the apples.”
“We don’t have apples.”
“Give me the fries then.”
Fries summon up memories for me, they are my first real contact with American culture. McDonald’s came to the UK during my formative years, so now fries hold a special place in my heart.
Well, the journey to get food that morning was not so satisfying. Although it was 2am and the jagermeister went down pretty hard, the burger and fries just didn’t cut it. The mess in my passenger seat was now gonna be reaaly fun to clean up.
French fries, roasted fries, full of Spur sauce fries… Dripping, drenched with sauce and a hint of salt and spice. The best kind of fries are end-of-the-week, so-exhausted, so glad-it’s-Friday kind of fries. The type you search high and low for the best source of the best slap chips in town.
The fries had no taste, brought on no sensation except a greasy heat in the dark pit of his stomach. With nothing else to occupy his mind, he counted how many were in the packet, and from that tried to guess how many starving children in Brazil or wherever had died to get them for him.
It’s frying beneath the sweltering summer weather. Why is it that we’re let out of school during the hottest time of the year, when we’re bored out of our minds with nothing mandatory to do inside? We’re forced to face the real world, which can burn you in more ways than the steamy weather threatens.
I love fries. I had fruit bread fries for the first time in my trip last week to africa and they were delicious. you can get fruit bread in some african countries in their tropical trees planted around. its free and for everyone to take. fruit bread is delicious, specially fried :)
Saying that french fries are his absolute favorite is an understatement, french fries are his incurable addiction. It isn’t the kind of addiction that one could embrace, it is the kind that’s bad for you and you just want to get rid of. He blames his mother for it, for not ever telling him that french fries are unhealthy, that they make him a three hundred pound college boy.
“Mm…., those sizzling fries sound good. Are they nearly ready?” Trevor asked walking into the kitchen as he followed his nose
“Yup, nearly ready. But they’re not for you,” I replied.
“They’re for Casey down the road.”
“Could you make some for me as well?” Trevor asked begging on the floor.
“Only if you go muck out the stalls first,” I replied grinning from ear to ear.
“Alright.”
Shirley and her husband were arguing over fries again. The service person impatience was radiating across the com. “Will that be with fries or not Sir?”, and “Dammit do you want fries Shirl?”, and “I didn’t even want to get fast food anyway. We should have gone to a restaurant.” The worker taking the order let out a sigh that went unheard.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about fries. Stupid, greasy, salty, delicious fries. I was going to go crazy if I didn’t get some soon. Unfortunately for me, I was still tied to a chair in the hallway with the burglar sitting on the steps nearby, his gun pointed lazily toward me as he shovelled another few hot slender sticks of potato goodness into his mouth. I salivated against the tape on mine and glared enviously.
“should i get the fries? or maybe the chicken wrap?” he says, sweat licking at his palms.
she’s staring at him like he’s gone mad, hiding her face-splitting grin with her palm. “you don’t need to make a big deal out of ordering food, silly,” she laughs.
he frowns. it’s their first date. it’d be rather odd to her if he is already full on the first meal, but of course, she probably doesn’t understand how much of a crisis he’s in. he bites his tongue.
“fine. i’ll get the wrap.”
he doesn’t miss the way her lips quirk upwards. “okay.”
French, sweet potato, and waffle. Greasy, salty finger foods, fast finger foods fitting firmly in graspers. Catsup/mayo/mustard, who knows what you will dip it in.
One fish and some fries please. Would you like just the same dear? Please! Don’t forget about the pickles, you know your mom loves them. Don’t worry, I won’t.
“You sound like a D.A.R.E. program you know that? Like ‘Hey kids, guess what imma dare ya not to do?’ So whatever. Go preach your ‘know something about something’ bs elsewhere. Perfectly capable of not frying my brain on lots of things like cable television, gaming, religion, and other forms of consumer excess and ultimately behavioral mind control, let alone the things you think you know something of. I’m not even an alcoholic, so really how dare you to presume.”
“If you do it, I’m one of the ones who will help ruin your life. Even if you’re succeeding or doing no harm. So if you don’t listen to reason…there will be certain consequences…”
“What you’ll bully me into compliance? Good luck there, pal.”
sometimes, I wonder just exactly how bad fries are for you. I really wish I could eat them all the time. I mean, who doesn’t love oil covered potato strips, right? then sometimes I remember that they’re covered in loads of salt and it makes my stomach churn because too much salt tastes weird.
Long yellow fingers
Oily and salty and my childhood
They taste horrible and they taste great
Their salt is like my tears and when I cry I crave french fries
I miss my childhood
I miss it all
Would you like fries with that? Poutine tastes OK but it makes me feel like ass gas for the rest of the day. I don’t like the full experience of poutine. My fingers go to type “poutine” and end up “pouting”. That’s how I feel about the hype of poutine vs the actual experience.
Choosing the standards you have for yourself starts with what you put in your body to fuel your journey forward. Will you choose the processed fries and burgers from McDonalds, deluding yourself as you call it ‘fast food’, or will you choose the nutrients that will truly propel you forward?
I love fries so much. They’re so salty. I like to put as much salt as i can on them. I don’t like ketchup on fries. Oh man, I had some really good fries today. I really enjoyed them. It’s Canada day so I ate them outside instead of sitting on my butt, alone, in my room. Fries.
The car lurched to a halt as another driver tried to cut in. Lucy gestured angrily at the driver, and Doyle noticed the bulge under her arm. “There probably won’t be a more opportune time to ask this, but do you always carry a sidearm?” “Once a marine, always a marine!” she chimed back. “Don’t they carry assault rifles?” he asked wryly, to which she replied while patting her side;
“I got this baby in the Secret Service!” “You’ve had an interesting career so far!” Doyle continued, as the car entered the city.”It beats shoveling fries for a living, and it got me into Law School!”
Fat. Salty. McDonalds weighing you down. Do you care about your body, the vehicle that is supposed to carry you through your life and allow you to explore and reach your highest potential?
usually termned as junk food but i dont care . just love them . itr was day full of friengss. they got the hold over. the world got fries and fry up things
Did I want fries with that? Yes. I also wanted a large chocolate milkshake, a cherry cola, a container of ten chicken nuggets, and a mini apple pie. Oh, and a bag of Skittles, a chili hot dog, and a bucket of popcorn. And I couldn’t forget the barbecued tenderloin, the baked potato with bacon, and a giant tub of butter for all of it. Oh, and a diet Pepsi. I was watching my weight, you know.
I stared down at the plate of cold, soggy fries sitting on the diner table. They sagged with oil, dripping grease all over the tacky floor, but I didn’t bother to mop it up. The whole room smelled like regret, of dreams crushed and happiness long gone.
I already wrote about this, i thought to myself. I just found this website and i want to write about more than just fries. I want to write about things that actually matter. I want more words. I WANT MORE WORDS. That’s why i write.
The little girl orders a large fries, and the cashier stared at her. He looked at her while she looked at herself, and she knew he wanted to call it out. Call her fat. He looked at her for a long while and then plugged in her order. “Shes beautiful” he thought.
The fries were always too soggy and reminded her of why she shouldn’t eat them so often. Once the sting of the salt on the corner of her mouth dissolved, she abruptly grabbed her tray and threw it sloppily into the trash bin.
When I walked down the street yesterday I saw a small lonely french fry in the ground where it had fallen from some person’s red little cup of potato from the restaurant they had recently visited.
As he picked yet another salty piece, unable to stop, he made a face at his friends as they teased him. The boy was fairly average weight, but all his buddies like to tease him that if he kept eating McDonald’s, no girls would want to go out with him.
the fries were cold—it wouldn’t be the first time. there was always something cold around here–the fries jsut another consistency added to the list. she cared not to warm them. what use what it do? they would only be warm for a short time before cooling again. as with all things. the fries were no different. every bit the same.
“Hello, this is Mr Mac Donald.
“Hello, is this Mac Donald, the red and white stripey guy?” asked the Totally Horsey Person (Me)
(Sigh) “Yes, the actual Mac Donald.”
“I would like to ask if there is any horse meat in your burgers?”
“Err, there is no horse meat in the burger. Actually no meat at all.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Okay, I would like to order the french fries, please.”
Truth:
Just processed meat
Fries(noun)
A really good weight gainer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Terrible for someone who wants to stay slim.
Bad for someone who is on a diet.
But absolutely delicious as a little snack now and then!
(mmmm…….) :)
“Where are my fries?” Jim looked up at Bill in anger. “They always seem to forget the goddamn fries.”
“Jim, chill man. I’ll go ask.” Bill stood up from the table.
“No. I’m not going to chill. These people can’t do their damn job.” He removed a small handgun from his pocket. “I’m going to show them what happens when you act like a goddamn idiot in my town.”
“Do you want fries with that?”
“No, I’d rather eat apple slices. That’s why I came to the greasy spoon in five states. For the apples.”
“We don’t have apples.”
“Give me the fries then.”
Fries summon up memories for me, they are my first real contact with American culture. McDonald’s came to the UK during my formative years, so now fries hold a special place in my heart.
Well, the journey to get food that morning was not so satisfying. Although it was 2am and the jagermeister went down pretty hard, the burger and fries just didn’t cut it. The mess in my passenger seat was now gonna be reaaly fun to clean up.
We fries many things such as fish,nuggets etc. The things we fries are very tasty
French fries, roasted fries, full of Spur sauce fries… Dripping, drenched with sauce and a hint of salt and spice. The best kind of fries are end-of-the-week, so-exhausted, so glad-it’s-Friday kind of fries. The type you search high and low for the best source of the best slap chips in town.
The fries had no taste, brought on no sensation except a greasy heat in the dark pit of his stomach. With nothing else to occupy his mind, he counted how many were in the packet, and from that tried to guess how many starving children in Brazil or wherever had died to get them for him.
It’s frying beneath the sweltering summer weather. Why is it that we’re let out of school during the hottest time of the year, when we’re bored out of our minds with nothing mandatory to do inside? We’re forced to face the real world, which can burn you in more ways than the steamy weather threatens.
I love fries. I had fruit bread fries for the first time in my trip last week to africa and they were delicious. you can get fruit bread in some african countries in their tropical trees planted around. its free and for everyone to take. fruit bread is delicious, specially fried :)
Saying that french fries are his absolute favorite is an understatement, french fries are his incurable addiction. It isn’t the kind of addiction that one could embrace, it is the kind that’s bad for you and you just want to get rid of. He blames his mother for it, for not ever telling him that french fries are unhealthy, that they make him a three hundred pound college boy.
oh
had them yesterday
favorites all of them, except for the not fluffy over crispy ones
salt fucking salt
its not night yet
and not enough ketchup
“Mm…., those sizzling fries sound good. Are they nearly ready?” Trevor asked walking into the kitchen as he followed his nose
“Yup, nearly ready. But they’re not for you,” I replied.
“They’re for Casey down the road.”
“Could you make some for me as well?” Trevor asked begging on the floor.
“Only if you go muck out the stalls first,” I replied grinning from ear to ear.
“Alright.”
Shirley and her husband were arguing over fries again. The service person impatience was radiating across the com. “Will that be with fries or not Sir?”, and “Dammit do you want fries Shirl?”, and “I didn’t even want to get fast food anyway. We should have gone to a restaurant.” The worker taking the order let out a sigh that went unheard.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about fries. Stupid, greasy, salty, delicious fries. I was going to go crazy if I didn’t get some soon. Unfortunately for me, I was still tied to a chair in the hallway with the burglar sitting on the steps nearby, his gun pointed lazily toward me as he shovelled another few hot slender sticks of potato goodness into his mouth. I salivated against the tape on mine and glared enviously.
the hot smelly grease, i hate him. his lips curl back over he’s wretched teeth as he cracks a wicked smile. why does he haunt me
“should i get the fries? or maybe the chicken wrap?” he says, sweat licking at his palms.
she’s staring at him like he’s gone mad, hiding her face-splitting grin with her palm. “you don’t need to make a big deal out of ordering food, silly,” she laughs.
he frowns. it’s their first date. it’d be rather odd to her if he is already full on the first meal, but of course, she probably doesn’t understand how much of a crisis he’s in. he bites his tongue.
“fine. i’ll get the wrap.”
he doesn’t miss the way her lips quirk upwards. “okay.”
French, sweet potato, and waffle. Greasy, salty finger foods, fast finger foods fitting firmly in graspers. Catsup/mayo/mustard, who knows what you will dip it in.
One fish and some fries please. Would you like just the same dear? Please! Don’t forget about the pickles, you know your mom loves them. Don’t worry, I won’t.
She walked with an air of “I’m young and I love middle aged women more than getting drunk.
“Don’t do it! It fries your brain!”
“Don’t do what?”
“You know I know. Just don’t do it.”
“You sound like a D.A.R.E. program you know that? Like ‘Hey kids, guess what imma dare ya not to do?’ So whatever. Go preach your ‘know something about something’ bs elsewhere. Perfectly capable of not frying my brain on lots of things like cable television, gaming, religion, and other forms of consumer excess and ultimately behavioral mind control, let alone the things you think you know something of. I’m not even an alcoholic, so really how dare you to presume.”
“If you do it, I’m one of the ones who will help ruin your life. Even if you’re succeeding or doing no harm. So if you don’t listen to reason…there will be certain consequences…”
“What you’ll bully me into compliance? Good luck there, pal.”
I don’t know what this “comment” is for…I’m new to this..
sometimes, I wonder just exactly how bad fries are for you. I really wish I could eat them all the time. I mean, who doesn’t love oil covered potato strips, right? then sometimes I remember that they’re covered in loads of salt and it makes my stomach churn because too much salt tastes weird.
Long yellow fingers
Oily and salty and my childhood
They taste horrible and they taste great
Their salt is like my tears and when I cry I crave french fries
I miss my childhood
I miss it all
Would you like fries with that? Poutine tastes OK but it makes me feel like ass gas for the rest of the day. I don’t like the full experience of poutine. My fingers go to type “poutine” and end up “pouting”. That’s how I feel about the hype of poutine vs the actual experience.
Choosing the standards you have for yourself starts with what you put in your body to fuel your journey forward. Will you choose the processed fries and burgers from McDonalds, deluding yourself as you call it ‘fast food’, or will you choose the nutrients that will truly propel you forward?
I love fries so much. They’re so salty. I like to put as much salt as i can on them. I don’t like ketchup on fries. Oh man, I had some really good fries today. I really enjoyed them. It’s Canada day so I ate them outside instead of sitting on my butt, alone, in my room. Fries.
The car lurched to a halt as another driver tried to cut in. Lucy gestured angrily at the driver, and Doyle noticed the bulge under her arm. “There probably won’t be a more opportune time to ask this, but do you always carry a sidearm?” “Once a marine, always a marine!” she chimed back. “Don’t they carry assault rifles?” he asked wryly, to which she replied while patting her side;
“I got this baby in the Secret Service!” “You’ve had an interesting career so far!” Doyle continued, as the car entered the city.”It beats shoveling fries for a living, and it got me into Law School!”
Fat. Salty. McDonalds weighing you down. Do you care about your body, the vehicle that is supposed to carry you through your life and allow you to explore and reach your highest potential?
yeah :D
usually termned as junk food but i dont care . just love them . itr was day full of friengss. they got the hold over. the world got fries and fry up things
Did I want fries with that? Yes. I also wanted a large chocolate milkshake, a cherry cola, a container of ten chicken nuggets, and a mini apple pie. Oh, and a bag of Skittles, a chili hot dog, and a bucket of popcorn. And I couldn’t forget the barbecued tenderloin, the baked potato with bacon, and a giant tub of butter for all of it. Oh, and a diet Pepsi. I was watching my weight, you know.
I stared down at the plate of cold, soggy fries sitting on the diner table. They sagged with oil, dripping grease all over the tacky floor, but I didn’t bother to mop it up. The whole room smelled like regret, of dreams crushed and happiness long gone.
I already wrote about this, i thought to myself. I just found this website and i want to write about more than just fries. I want to write about things that actually matter. I want more words. I WANT MORE WORDS. That’s why i write.
The little girl orders a large fries, and the cashier stared at her. He looked at her while she looked at herself, and she knew he wanted to call it out. Call her fat. He looked at her for a long while and then plugged in her order. “Shes beautiful” he thought.
The fries were always too soggy and reminded her of why she shouldn’t eat them so often. Once the sting of the salt on the corner of her mouth dissolved, she abruptly grabbed her tray and threw it sloppily into the trash bin.