You don't go to McDonald's looking for perfection. You go there for a burger that costs less and tastes worse than the cumulative change in your car. By the time you're pulling into the McDonald's drive-thru, you've already lost the battle with your dignity and taste buds.

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It's the food version of a "massage parlor": you pay, avoid eye contact

with the employees, and hate yourself when you're done.

In addition to cheapness, people go to McDonald's looking for maniac consistency. To the franchise's credit, your McFartwich may have the flavor of dusty nickels slathered in radish ketchup and raccoon cheese, but at least your McEdibles will taste basically the same at any one of the 9 zillion McDonald's dotting the Earth like planet acne.

And -- as these recent news stories demonstrate -- when McDonald's fails to deliver on its most baseline promise of food made of carbon, shit happens. How so?