You know what I like even better than overly-complicated ice cream with tons of shit in it? Overly-complicated ice cream prepared on a dirty table. And if you could make the whole excruciating experience take about 20 minutes, that would be fantastic.
You know what, don’t even use the scoops. Seriously, just get your filthy hands right in there. I want to see my ice cream squeeze between your disgusting fingers like pus flowing from a boil. Fuck it, just throw the whole mess on the floor and stir it up with your penis.
All I can do is stare at the screen and wonder what the hell I could possibly say about this.
I honestly think we may have peaked as a civilization. Maybe it’s because I watched an episode of “Wife Swap” for the first time tonight or maybe it’s simply because Taco Bell is jamming Flamin Hot Fritos into burritos, but I’m starting to feel like the human race has reached the top of the roller coaster and it’s time to all put our hands in the air and enjoy the rapid decent into hell.
Can we be trusted with the enormous task of keeping society running smoothly when Fritos are being shoved up the ass of an already heinous “burrito?” I’m not even against the practice of putting chips on things, in fact I like a good PB&J filled with pretzels, but this activity should be reserved for the end user. There is just something so grim about buying a food product already stuffed with Fritos. It’s unfortunate.
Oh, but there is some good news though. The Beefy Crunch Burrito comes with “reduced fat sour cream.” Why bother?
Based on the shape of the “meat” found sadly cowering inside the McRib bun, McDonald’s would have us believe that it’s entirely normal to eat the bones when eating ribs. Forget about pulling the meat off the bone, just stick the whole fucking carcass in your mouth and chew it up like you’re a… you’re a… I can’t even think of an animal that eats bones.
I’ve also found that most award-winning ribs are the color of Guy Fieri’s hair.
Yum, your black golf shirt looks delicious Dennis! Or would I rather have a slice of your Dockers? It’s a tough choice, black and khaki are both such appetizing colors. I guess I could go for a piece of your beard, or maybe I should skip you altogether and just eat your golf cart. It’s so hard to choose, your Chamber of Commerce networking event is so mouthwatering!
Fuck it, I’m skipping the whole thing and eating this.
When you “double down” in the game of blackjack you are essentially doubling your risk with the hopes of doubling your reward.* When you force Kentucky Fried Chicken’s latest crime against humanity, the Double Down sandwich, down your gaping maw you are doubling your toilet’s reward.
Is it possible KFC is playing an elaborate, multimillion dollar prank on the world? Is this one of Andy Samberg’s HILARIOUS Digital Shorts? Even Kentucky Fried Chicken needs to convince themselves this monstrosity is not just a bad dream. The first sentence out of their greasy mouths on the official Double Down page is “The new KFC Double Down sandwich is real!” Even they can’t believe how fucking disgusting people are. I would not be surprised if they started pushing the limits even further just to see what they can get away with. Chicken fat shakes? Napkins made out of chicken skin? Perhaps they can bypass the whole eating thing and just force grease up your ass with a giant hose.
The thing I love about how uneducated we** are about food is that I actually found a few girlie “diet” websites taking about what a great diet sandwich this will be because it doesn’t have bread, A.K.A. carbs. Do I even need to waste my time dissecting this theory? TWO SLABS OF FRIED CHICKEN, TWO STRIPS OF BACON, TWO MELTED SLICES OF CHEESE AND THE “COLONEL’S SAUCE!” I’m going to get into those skinny jeans by June!
I’m exhausted just from looking at the photo of this piece of shit.
*Shut up, I realize this is not technically correct but I’m not writing a Guide to Blackjack here!
We’ve all been there. You’re staying at a hotel with one of those wall-mounted mirrors and you decided to extend it from the wall and take a look at yourself. You think, “Not too shabby, I’d fuck me. I would give myself a handjob at the very least.” This is where the story should end, but we all have that sick fascination with the other side of the mirror. The evil side. The dark side. You know the outcome of this little experiment of yours and yet you still take your dumb hand and flip the mirror over to reveal the most disgusting thing you have ever seen… your own face!
Suddenly a combination of Mackenzie Phillips and Edward James Olmos is staring back at you and every zit you have ever had in your entire life is visible again. Hey look, there’s that zit that ruined prom! Every pore looks like a cat’s butthole and your eyes look like rivers of blood held in place by spaghetti.
The nightmare is far from over though. A sane person would push the mirror away, allowing it to smash against the wall, but you are drawn to this horror show like a fly to shit. Oh no my friend, you lean in for a closer look. Sicko.
Sweet Jesus, can’t you tell from the pained look on my face and the way I’m touching my nose that you have a booger hanging by a thread in your nostril? Oh God, please, I’m begging you with all my mind power to shoot it out with a hardy nose laugh. PLEASE let me just pick it! ANYTHING TO END THIS PAIN!
I’m not sure there is anything that makes me more uncomfortable than having a conversation while a little booger mocks me from the outer limits of its established universe. If someone was to start pooping on the floor in the middle of a conversation with me, I don’t think it would make me feel as uneasy as some dried-up booger flapping around in the wind.
Why are those tiny boogers so mesmerizing? I feel like my eyes are attached to them by a wire when I see one. I want to look away but I find it physically impossible. Maybe if I stare at it hard enough I can make it explode into booger dust.
Everything you never wanted to know about the word booger, explained by a mail-order Russian bride who thinks she is hotter than she is. I hate the internet.
Much like the Terminator, you can be sure that after you eat Wendy’s “Baconator” it too will be back.
Do I really need to “conquer” my food? Ted Nugent and Sarah Palin may love to bring their food to its knees, but I just need something that will go down and come out the other end without trying to kill me in the process. Don’t get me wrong, I hate fussy food, but I also don’t need a fucking pizza on top of my pretzel. How in the hell am I supposed to walk around the mall and impress 18-year-old girls (or their moms) when I’m trying to balance a pizza on top of my God damn pretzel? I’m already carrying 4 bags from Hot Topic!
A Triple Baconator clocks in at: 1330 calories 86 grams of fat 780 calories coming from fat.
Let me put that into perspective for your fat ass… a Big Mac has 540 calories with 29 grams of fat and 260 calories from fat. In other words, a Triple Baconator is like eating 2.5 Big Macs. The recommended caloric intake for a 25 year old male who is 6 feet / 175 lbs is about 2500-2900 depending on how active they are. So let’s add medium fries and a large Coke to your Wendy’s order, please drive to the first window. Congratulations you just consumed 2020 calories and 106 grams of fat in ONE MEAL! I’m sweating just from the thought of it.
Your body literally does need to conquer that son-of-a-bitch!
If you can’t live without your precious Baconator, you might as well class it up a bit.
