Fixing Fast Food Nation

I was driving in to work this morning and heard a commercial for Blue Bell ice cream. Personally, I prefer to massacre a good diet with Ben & Jerry’s, but to each his own arsenic.

Anyways, I realized that, in much the same way David Allan Coe wrote the perfect country song, Blue Bell had created the worst ice cream in history. For those of you who were inconsiderately cursed by nature with a gag reflex, get ready to purge…

Caramel Kettle Crunch – Blue Bell Ice Cream
A tasty combination of creamy vanilla ice cream with crunchy caramel-coated popcorn and a smooth caramel sauce.

What in gay hell would possess someone to mix this stuff?! I can almost get over the ick factor—I’ve swallowed worse, I’m sure. But I want to meet the undoubtedly portly teamster in Product Development who said, “I think I’ll dip this fattening substance into this fattening substance, and then toss it in my ice cream and sell it to children in the South.”

Double Down Sandwich – KFC
This one-of-a-kind sandwich features two thick and juicy boneless white meat chicken filets, two pieces of bacon, two melted slices of Monterey Jack and pepper jack cheese and Colonel’s Sauce. This product is so meaty, there’s no room for a bun!

I gained two pounds just reading the description. Someone should be shot. This is just an abomination! Forget Green Day’s ”American Idiot”—these people are trying to turn us all into an American Fatass. Also, what the hell is Colonel’s Sauce?! That just sounds inherently vile. I am okay with letting the secret eleven herbs and spices remain a mystery. I am not, however, willing to put Colonel’s Sauce in my mouth without a detailed explanation of what’s in it. And regardless, there’s no way I’m eating the sandwich.

McCafé Mocha Frappé – McDonalds
This is one frosty cup of love: the coffee-chocolate goodness of mocha blended with ice, topped with whipped cream.

I worked for McDonalds for three years. I still have occasional nightmares of being forced to learn the McDonald’s Menu Song to get bonus points during an annual inspection. During the time that I worked for an oppressive clown with size 22 feet, I got to see a lot of “McFlops”. Like… McSpaghetti. The Hula Burger. The list goes on. Not to mention the McRib, which had more farewell tours than Cher. None of these were as annoying as the new frappés. I stop in every morning to get a sweet tea on my way to work, and they consistently greet me with, “Hi, would you like to try a frappe?” No. I don’t. Not here, not ever. If I wanted a coffee product, I’d go to Starbucks like every other gay guy on the planet! I will NEVER say yes! Stop asking!! And scene.

The Baconator – Wendy’s
The Baconator is a mountain of mouth-watering taste that’s always fresh and made to order. We put six strips of hickory smoked bacon on top of a ½ lb. of hot, juicy beef with melted American cheese, ketchup, and mayo for a full-flavored hamburger that won’t be denied.

Rather than focusing on the sandwich itself—because no self-respecting gay guy is putting that in their mouth—I thought it would be a refreshing change to just highlight the carefully selected sexual verbiage that was used here: “mountain of mouth-watering taste that’s always fresh and made to order,” “hot, juicy beef with melted cheese,” (eww) “mayo for a full-flavored hamburger that won’t be denied.” … If only the Craigslist people used imagery this inappropriate.

Chop House Cheddar Burger – Whataburger
Just like you like it: Two 100% pure American beef patties loaded with shredded cheddar cheese, dressed with grilled onions and two slices and two slices of bacon then topped with a creamy steak sauce. And of course, we serve it on a big toasted bun.

Which rumors surrounding my sordid drunken debauchery led you to believe that “just like you like it” included cheese and onions? I’m not sure what to say about the creamy steak sauce, but you’re selling a burger—not a one-night stand (“meaningful one-time relationship”). Please revise and resubmit.

Now that I have thoroughly lost my appetite, I’m going to try to go find something large enough to make me gag so that I can throw up that bite of lunch I nearly ate yesterday.

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