A recent investigation into southeast child labor law violations found massive infringements by over 60 McDonald’s Franchises. Most notably, two 10-year-old children were found working at a McDonald’s in Kentucky, sometimes as late as 2:00 a.m., doing everything from operating the fryolator to working the drive-thru. Here’s everything we know so far:
The Children were not paid, but were given great exposure
Money is great, but the leg up this experience has given these kids for finding diminutive, underpaid work in the future is invaluable.
McDonald’s has pledged to reform its child labor practices until this story sort of blows over
A Spokesman for McDonald’s assured the public that they are dedicated to eliminating the exploitation of children “from now until the next thing that happens that people get all up in arms about, probably tomorrow.”
The children were made to believe the labor was a game, like in Roberto Benigni’s “Life is Beautiful”
Compared to the Holocaust this really isn’t so bad.
When you factor in the life expectancy of people living below the poverty line, those kids were 36
Senior regional management was quick to point out that compared to the life span of a person with a job that society arbitrarily values, those children were well into adulthood.
They looked cute as hell flipping those fries
I mean, just adorbs.
Anything that fell on the floor was theirs
After a brief investigation to determine the drop was, in fact, an accident and a stern reprimand, Timmy was allowed to eat the nugget he dropped with no sauce.
Food Prepared by children contains up to 20% more love
Without them, the special sauce just wouldn’t be as special.
The manager was careful not to actually look at the children
Reportedly he even went so far as to explicitly say “There better not be children working here, that would be terrible!” while staring at the ceiling and making a little “keep it going” motion with his finger.
“Do you want our employees to have access to daycare or not?”
“McDonald’s is really getting a lot of mixed messages here.”
Burger King does the same thing but with shittier kids
“We don’t think we’re speaking out of turn when we say the child labor violations of our competitors are ganglier, more awkward, and less satisfying.”
McDonald’s would like to remind everyone that third-degree grease burns heal faster and more efficiently when they occur at a young age
“When you think about it, it’s actually cruel that we don’t employ more children.”
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No one is truly innocent
We are all born into sin, as it is in scripture.
Operating a fryolator is part of Kentucky school’s common core curriculum
Technically these kids were at school the whole time.
The 10-year-olds were working under the direction of their parents
Those children were under no corporate pressure to complete tasks save for the insurmountable amount of work a McDonald’s employee is expected to complete for $8.22 an hour and the threat of starvation.
You don’t really care
You’ve been daydreaming about a fillet-o-fish all goddamn day and you are goddamn getting one.
Well, this shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. “Tiny Tunes” (or “Same Old Tunes” as it was retitled after Tiny Tunes Adventures sued the absolute shit out of these guys) is a pretty standard first album for a band that hasn’t really figured their sound out yet. Really, the most interesting part of this whole record is the fact that Chiquita threatened to sue Millencolin as well over it. Yes, the banana company – now, that’s fucking stupid.
“Machine 15” isn’t a bad album, it’s just a bad Millencolin album. It makes sense that a band just coming out of its golden era (more on that later) would want to break the mold and try something new – but, yeah, this ain’t it. Don’t worry, they’ll figure it out eventually.
I actually don’t have much to say about this one. It’s fine. Go listen to it – or don’t, I don’t give a shit. Moving on.
“For Monkeys” is a transitional album to be sure. The band is clearly trying to break out from that third-wave ska influence that is heavy in the first two records, but they just can’t seem to stop themselves from occasionally breaking into janky upstrokes. There’s nothing wrong with this record – it just needed a little more time to marinate.
So now we’re getting into the part of every ranking where I always end up having to acknowledge that the only reason a really good record is as low as it is is because the band has written a lot of other really good records and that that doesn’t take anything away from the album that is lower than it might seem it deserves but it’s simply how ranking things and just numbers in general work. Anyways, “True Brew” is that album for Millencolin. I look forward to reading the many comments you braindead jags are gonna leave me about how I “did the album dirty” by placing it here. Go for it, morons.
You see that dead bird on the album cover? His name was Daryl. Yeah, that’s right, he has a name. Well, he had a name. Also, Daryl had a family. A wife bird and three baby birds who will never see his dead ass ever again. Ever. Not such a cute, fun pop-punk record now is it, huh?
I’ll be honest, I dismissed this album for a long time as a kid. Not for any reason other than being a fifteen-year-old shithead and thinking that “Kingwood,” with it’s goofy fucking cover art and the admittedly still dorky, but fun, music video they made for “Ray,” was just not a cool record. So if anything “Kingwood” should be a lesson to us all to listen back on records that you ignored during your “too cool for school” era, because I can guarantee you were actually “too cool” for nothing.
Guess what I just learned! “Pennybridge” is the rough English translation of Orebro, the band’s hometown in Sweden. That’s right – I had no idea that was the truth until like ten minutes ago. And now I’m wondering what in the hell I thought it meant for so many years or if I ever even put much thought into it at all. Did I actually think the band meant they were blazing a trail over an unexplored bridge made entirely of American pennies? Sure, why not – it’s a fun image.
This album slaps from front to back. Also, are the kids still saying “slaps” to mean “is of a high quality and enjoyable” these days? Whatever, maybe this isn’t the right time to ask.
Some die-hard Deftones fans may disagree with this one, but in terms of consistency, “Saturday Night Wrist” leaves a lot to be desired. The entire experience from front to back is similar to combining a diet of nuts and cheese with equal parts Miralax. There are stunning moments of clarity in the form of bangers, but beware… there will be times when you find yourself biting down on a piece of slate while waiting for certain movements to pass.
Though a solid album in its own right, “Adrenaline” is more of a proof of concept than anything else. It’s moody. It’s heavy. It’s even atmospheric at times! And if dressing like the Crow before a night of unrelenting bondage sex is your style, then you’ll be pleased to know that the b-side from this album, “Teething,” was featured prominently on the “City of Angels” soundtrack.
“Gore” is an album that requires patience, but has great payoffs. To date, it’s Deftones’ most ambitious and experimental album. But in terms of replay value, there is a place and time for “Gore.” And that place and time is your couch after about 500mg of edibles. Though its inherent weirdness should not be considered a turnoff by any stretch of the imagination, you really have to be in the mood for this one, which is why it ranks lower than other efforts.
“Ohms” is the follow-up to “Gore,” and Deftones’ most recent album at the time of this article. Chino’s vocals are in top form, Sergio’s bass rips through your speakers like a buzzsaw, Abe Cunningham relentlessly beats the absolute fuck out of his drums, Frank Delgado’s instinct for texture is intimidating, and Stefan Carpenter reaches his final form because he’s using a 19 string guitar or something at this point. In a way, “Ohms” is the perfect follow-up to “Around the Fur” if you forget about the other six albums in between.
Translating to “feeling of love,” “Koi No Yokan” boasts a crisp, yet lush production that assaults your ears. But for all the abrasive and meteoric highs that this album has, it’s got ballads too. If you ever find yourself slow dancing to this album, you’re definitely gonna get fingered, so make sure you loosen the snap buckle belt on your cargo shorts.
This album rules because it’s a return to form after “Saturday Night Wrist.” This album also sucks because it’s the first album without Chi Cheng on bass. Sergio Vega from Quicksand, however, took on the role of bottom-feeder seamlessly, and this is definitely an album that makes a good soundtrack for eating ass.
We love this album for its songwriting, production, sense of dynamics, and flow. We hate it because when we open the CD booklet that we haven’t organized since 2003, it sits between “Three Dollar Bill,” Y’all, and Crazytown’s “The Gift of Game.” There are tits on the cover too.
Many think this album should be number one on the list, but they had to use “Back to School (Mini Maggit)” as the opening track on the US release. They shouldn’t have done that. That’s like starting off a nine-course, Michelin-rated meal with gas station egg salad. We strongly recommend starting the album with “Feiticeira,” because that’s the way God intended, and “Pink Maggit” is a superior version of “Back to School (Mini Maggit),” as well as an epic closer.
The self-titled follow-up to “White Pony” is the perfect Deftones album. It won’t bring her back, but if you crank it to maximum volume, they won’t hear you crying. It’s brutal, it’s hella sensitive, the drums sound like a cannon and beat you in the chest, and Chino took a long time to recover after blowing his voice out shrieking on this one. In other words, “White Pony” was a stunning proof of concept of what Deftones are capable of, but it was also the necessary stepping stone to lead us to this self-titled banger that is in many ways a superior album.