You Can Have My Burger When You Pry It From My Bloated, Greasy Fingers

It’s a well-known fact that America is a nation of fat people. And I’m not talking “chubby” or “a wee bit overweight.” Hell, I’m not even talking about your garden variety level of Wal-Mart fat. Rather, I’m talking about the kind of fat that allows you to use the fold between your upper and lower …

Whoppers and Hummers: A Marriage Made in Late-Night Heaven

I’ll tell you this, though: if Burger King really does do it like I do it, the next time the drive-thru lady asks if you want anything else, demand a handful of Valtrex and directions to the nearest free clinic.