Happy Green Day! Isn't it funny how the only Green Day song most people know is Time of Your Life? I suspect that in Singapore part of the reason for that is that they play it all the time over trailers of that silly teenybopper show that no one ever watches. Goodness knows what it's called.

Green Day. There was parking and walking to class which I obviously could not participate in. And there was vegetarian pizza, which I dislike because something as blatantly fattening as pizza should not have its glorious unhealthiness befouled by things like spinach and zucchini, although perhaps artichokes are OK. As a general rule, I say that fast food should not be adulterated for the sake of salving people's consciences. Take this whole McDonald's thing with the salads and pedometers - it's obviously all PR and pussyfooting around the real issue, which is, to paraphrase Deuteronomy, that we have before us life and death, good and evil, watercress soup and dripping cheeseburgers - and you pays your money and makes your choice. If you're going to be bad, why sully your enjoyment of the deed with lettuce leaves? And if you're going to be good, don't even think of stepping into a fast food joint, even for a salad, because that's just leading yourself into temptation.

Matt and I actually had an extended discussion of the above on the way to Hardee's last night. We also bemoaned the general poverty of service at drive-through windows, Matt citing in particular the countless times he had asked for no mayo on his sandwich and still ended up with it. I remember when I was young that there were always damn pickles in the McDonald's cheeseburgers no matter how stridently I insisted they not be there. I've since discovered that I do like pickles, just not inside of sandwiches. They have to be good crunchy pickles though, squishy ones are just nasty.