Not Fast Enough, McDonald's

I was first put on to this new practice from Deebo's Blog, where she waxes rhapsodic about coffee on a regular basis: McDonald's is now offering the perfect cup of coffee. I don't drink the stuff, but I can certainly understand how this would be enticing to caffeine addicts. Based on the information I gleaned from the aforementioned blog and a few commercials for McDonald's I have seen, what makes this coffee "perfect" is that they now add the cream and sugar for you, instead of giving you the necessary condiments and letting you apply them yourself. Maybe I am naive about the whole coffee-drinking populace and their weird customs (which also apparently include talking a mile-a-minute and slightly perspiring), but wouldn't the "perfect" cup of coffee be one where you added cream and sugar and whatever else yourself?
Don't get me wrong here. It isn't like I don't trust McDonald's to provide me with rapid, banal service everytime I go in there. I'm just wondering how "perfect" they can make my coffee. What if I like exactly one and a half teaspoons of cream and four granules of sugar? Can they handle this request? I get the picture here, though: it's convenience. No more fumbling with foil-covered cream containers and paper packets of sugar, just a perfect (and legally piping hot) cup of coffee that you can throw down the gullet before you even get back on the freeway. I'd say the bigger problem here is the outdated delivery system. A cup of coffee? Take that shit back to the 19th century. Why don't you load my coffee into a Super Soaker and just shoot it right into my throat? I've got my Speedy Pass ready so I don't want to hear any guff. And if you can puree my cheeseburger and fries into a liqueous solution, we can wrap this whole thing up in under thirty seconds.
It really saddens me to see McDonald's bow to the pressure of coffee snobs and health nuts. I don't go to McDonald's to eat a salad and quaff some French Roast, I want a gummy little burger that was formed in a giant Play Doh factory and a cold, tasteless drink to kill the heartburn. I don't want yogurt and granola, I want a doughy little pie microwaved to the temperature of a nuclear core that has a teaspoon of apple sauce in it. This is what we go to McDonald's for, not the food, but the near-death experience. What McDonald's needs to understand is that there's still a market for bland, rubbery food marketed by circus clowns and anthropomorphic biplane pilots. And that market is known as Los Angeles.