Let myself eat McDonald's today. (The food, not the whole company. If I'd done that, I'd've made the news.) Had the bacon-and-cheese Angus, as I'd been amused by the Billy Connelly-sounding guy in the radio ads ("I, am Angus! I'm loovin' it!"), and I was unimpressed. Even the fries were lackluster. The chocolate-dipped cone was better, maybe because I ate it first. Had to, as I set it down and then jogged the table, knocking the cone over and cracking the shell like that of an egg and needing to pick it up and eat it before it melted everywhere. (Well, not everywhere. "World flooded by soft-serve vanilla!" Exaggerating is fun.)
At some point I started referring to fast food as "trash food." Stuff like this is why. The Bite of Oregon's happening, we have really good restaurants in this fine town, and I'm at Mickey D's? Go to Burgerville, at least, Chris. NOT trash food. (Not a paid plug, though I know people who do get to make paid plugs for the chain, but I digress.)
So. "Trash food." If you start using the term, I won't mind. I won't even charge royalties for it.