With the exception of Jules Winnfield and those of his ilk (read: Leviticus readers), everyone loves bacon. Everyone. I don’t factor vegetarians in this gross exaggeration, mostly because I don’t accept vegetarians, or vegetarianism. I mean, I love animals just as much as the next faux-hippie, but I also love to eat them. And I do it, a lot. Sure, I have moments where I think a life of meat-free meals would benefit me physically and mentally. But I also have moments where I want to side swipe cars off of bridges. We don’t take action on these thoughts, because they are insane. Balls to the wall crazy.
Bacon just happens to be in the top 3 of “Most Awesome Things That Used to Be Alive”:
- My dog, Puppers
Let’s let another 10 years go by and maybe my memories of that dog will fade, thus giving bacon the runner-up spot. It’s a waiting game at this point. It would make sense that Bacon follows Jesus, because it is His greatest gift to mankind. This is why it seemed necessary to once again attempt to finish a Baconator®. I say “once again,” because some year and a half ago I failed miserably at finishing this sandwich, i.e., The Tears of PETA. Speaking of, did you know that every time someone orders a Baconator®, a PETA member dies of Mad Cow Disease? It’s true, look it up. Oh, the irony. Anyhow, my first go-around ended poorly simply because I gave up. I idiotically ordered it right before a trip to an amusement park, and halfway through I realized that ingesting 4 lbs. of meat before riding a rollercoaster might not be the best of ideas. It was a sad moment, knowing I had to throw away perfectly good bacon, but these decisions only make you stronger.
Last Friday, I ventured out to my local Wendy’s and I picked up the combo meal containing this shiny beacon of awesome, large sized, of course. The picture didn’t quite capture the majesty of the bacon, due to the amount of ketchup slathered all over, but believe me, there are 6 pieces of goodness hidden underneath.
The Baconator® is comprised of thus:
- 2 4oz. beef patties
- 2 slices of American cheese
- 6 strips of bacon
- premium bun
Add in the biggie fries and Dr. Pepper and, boy oh boy, you’re in for something special. It’s called freedom, Communists. Look into it.
I was never a fine strategist. In fact, most would consider me to be a fine follower. Give me orders and I’ll follow them, but ask for directions, and you’ll end up in a lake somewhere. A smarter man would have started with the sandwich. Instead, I opted to finish off the fries first, sort of like an appetizer. Being that I’m on par with Amy Winehouse weight-wise, I was nearly full already. Not a good start. But this is about the end of my youth, of my remaining time to do completely idiotic things. Let’s press on, you rogues.
Of course, that first bite was fantastic. What’s not to like? Cheese: check. Hamburger: check. Bacon: sextuple check. Hmm, that’s interesting. Do you think the masterminds at Wendy’s picked six strips of bacon for that very reason? Sex on a bun? Get sextupled? I should have gone into advertising. But whatever, things started out well. That first bite turned into ten, and that feeling of “Oohh, that’s nice” turned into “Why am I sweating?”
Oh, the meat sweats. What a wonderful thing! Sitting in a perfectly air-conditioned room, one can begin to shake and sweat, sort of like a junkie. “Just one more bite/hit,” you’ll cry. But that last one could very well be your last. And you know what? It was. I did not finish this meal. In fact, I gave up with only one, maybe two, bites left. There simply was no room left, and I was beginning to feel like someone had shot grease directly into my veins. I tossed the remnants into the trash, said a little prayer with the hope I wouldn’t be punished for wasting such a heavenly creation, and take a five minute nap at my desk. The Baconator® is a tough bastard. It’ll drag you up and down the road, slapping you in the face the whole way. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?
This is going to be a long experiment, no need to go over the top this early in the game. Yes, I realize this is a cop-out, but cut me some slack here. We’re learning as we go. Our next venture will, obviously, take place on Thanksgiving. I’m thankful for my southern grandparents, who will certainly feed me carbs, meats, and fatty substances until I beg for mercy. But there is no mercy in this dojo!!