Right, so, we’re talking McDonald’s breakfast. I know, I know—people judge, don’t they? But there’s something about a hash brown in bed on a Sunday that just feels right. Or it did, until I—a lifelong vegetarian—was handed a bag that was basically just a heavy, greasy pile of triple-sausage-meat-monstrosities. Who even orders three patties and no egg? I want to meet that person. I think we’d have words.
In this episode of Carl vs Reality, I’m having a bit of a natter about the sheer, baffling chaos of food delivery apps. We’re diving into the mystery of the driver with the \"Warning: Fart Loading\" T-shirt (I mean, aren't we all?), the strange gift of an Elton John Watford stadium shirt, and the time I learned the hard way that if you don't tip, your Dr Pepper might just become a tactical explosive. It’s a bit of a mess, really. A bit like life, but with more fizzy drink on the ceiling and the cat questioning its life choices.
Spread the word, leave a like, and try not to explode your own beverages. Ta-ta for now.
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