Larry Correa fisks the New Yorker

I could see that the line to get inside stretched almost to the end of the block. An employee took orders on a touch screen and corralled people through the doors.

Corralled? Here, let me bash you in the teeth with my +3 Bat of Subtlety.

The air smelled fried.

I’m betting that line sounded way cooler in your head, but they don’t FRY AIR, Dan.

New York has taken to Chick-fil-A.

HOW DARE THEY?!?

One of the Manhattan locations estimates that it sells a sandwich every six seconds, and the company has announced plans to open as many as a dozen more storefronts in the city.

Keep in mind, New York City has 26,000 restaurants in it. If you ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner at a different place every single day, you’d never be able to try them all because by the time you cycled through, there would be a bunch of new ones in business. Plus you’d weigh 800 pounds and need a livestock hoist to get out of bed. (but that’s what delivery is for, quitter!)

I have to travel to New York a lot for my job. The food is the best part of those trips. For my fellow red state hillbilly vagabonds who’ve not been to the food capitol of the world, there are restaurants everywhere. There are restaurants within restaurants. There are secret burger places literally hidden inside hotel lobbies (behind curtains!). And that’s not even getting into the 8000(!) food trucks and carts. So they have sidewalk food in front of their food.

And it’s all pretty damned good, because there’s so much competition that if one sucks and goes out of business, there’s a hundred others lined up to take their place.

I’m just throwing those numbers out there to put into perspective what a whiny little bitch Dan really is to freak out over a few chicken places.

And yet the brand’s arrival here feels like an infiltration, in no small part because of its pervasive Christian traditionalism.

Dan thinks Neil DeGrasse Tyson is too religious.

Read the whole thing.