The Ladybug and I are at McDonald’s for lunch.   Her Happy Meal includes a toy “beauty head.” While it’s supposed to be a miniature version of those mannequin heads that students use at cosmetology school to practice hairstyle techniques with, it mostly looks like a decapitated doll’s head, and the Ladybug wants nothing to do with it.

As soon as we finish with lunch, she runs up to the cashier and asks if she can exchange it for a different toy.

“Is there something wrong with it?” asks the girl at the register.

“Yeah,” says the Ladybug.   “I think it’s missing a body.”

Speaking of McDonald’s and creepy, the current paper place-mat looks like

which immediately reminded me of the movie Slither

I’m no marketing genius, but I’m pretty sure the one thing you don’t want patrons to associate your food with is flesh-eating zombie slugs from outer space.

(Of course, in hindsight, I suppose that’s better than what McDonald’s previously suggested I do with my Big Mac.)

After McDonald’s, the Ladybug and I headed to Hobby Lobby to buy a pair of sketchbooks, so that we could work on various art projects together over the summer.   There, we apparently discovered what happened to the rest of her McDonald’s doll:

I’m not sure what the hell this thing is, but the arterial sprays of blood spewing forth from its severed neck and shoulders creep me the fuck out.

Perhaps not unexpectedly, well after our McDonald’s trip, I’m in line at the grocery store to purchase a case of beer, a bottle of Beano, and a toilet plunger.

The guy in line behind me takes one look at my stuff and replies, “Look’s like someone knows how to party.”

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