Look, I’ve got nothing against all-natural produce, but we can’t always just eat an organic pear. Sometimes we need something more. Sometimes we need savory as well as sweet. Sometimes we need throw caution to the wind and say, “Fuck it all: I’ll eat Cheerios and Lipitor the rest of this week if I must, but tonight I want to live!” Sometimes, dear readers, we need to eat a donut bacon cheeseburger, which is precisely what I did this weekend. Behold the epitome of gluttony and the pinnacle of modern culinary innovation, made by my own two hands:
Now, having actually had the high-calorie, fatty food food equivalent of a gang bang, I can tell you the following things about the donut bacon cheeseburger with great certainty:
- Despite allegations otherwise, the donut bacon cheeseburger is not a sign of the apocalypse. It is glorious.
- In fact, the donut bacon cheeseburger is so mind-blowingly scrumptious that I’d reckon this is the Harbinger of Deliciousness, a veritable Jesus Burger that has come from the heavens above to rid the world of size-zero pants and preach the gospel of elastic waistbands.
- My vision of Heaven is most likely the 9th circle of Hell for vegetarians. In certain fundamentalist vegan Christian circles, I am now the front runner for the Antichrist. I guess even the irresistible temptations of a donut bacon cheeseburger can’t win ’em all.
The rest of my experience is a bit more of a blur, so at this point we have to pause so you can decide if you want to take the donut bacon cheeseburger pill or the boring pill. How far down this culinary rabbit hole of batshit insanity and morbid obesity do you want to go? Oh, who am I kidding? Red pill it is!