Thursday, May 20, 2010

Nothing could inspire me to write like the Whiplash Whopper

I got to admit, bloggings been slow lately. If I had..*coughs coughs*...more of an avid readership, it might inspire me to get my ass in gear a little bit and crank out more beautiful pieces of prose worthy of being stored in the white house library. Finding a subject is often hard. Actually it's not hard at all, because I could just as easily write about Batman every single entry, which would double as a case study on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and later submit my work to various psychiatric journals. In turn I'm sure I would receive slight monetary compensation, which would only be fair once the number of applied jobs that rejected me were factored in. You might be wondering why I'm sitting here writing a blog instead of working right now...it is the summer after all. Well I'm glad you asked. Let me tell you a bit about my summer plans.

1. Get Job
2. Eat as much decadent unhealthy food as possible for the sheer purpose of cultural analysis (that's my excuse de jour) and hopefully crank out some kind of magnum opus that leads to a job.
3. Edit a film...or something. Some kind of leisurely arts and crafts project that would in no way further my career.
4. Never be sarcastic.

So in the process of hunting jobs, I couldn't help but press my face up against the glass at burger kind when I spotted this challenging advertisement.
In a similar fashion to how CiCi's pizza or a buffet can be considered a "challenge" a seasonal gigantic menu item at burger king can also fall under that category. If you read my last entry, you'll know that Iron Man 2 is all the rage right now and whether it was the best movie or not, if there's one thing I love more than life itself it's goddamn hype. Whiplash, Ivan Vanko, is the villain (or one of them) in Iron Man. He's a big leathery, grotesque tatooed ruskie with an S&M harness on his chest and two electric whips. He mildly makes shit difficult for Iron Man but eventually of course he gets killed pretty easily.

The important thing to consider here is, THIS IS MICKEY ROURKE. Mickey Rourke is a hardass worn out piece of shit. I've often been awake at night wondering what kind of burger a guy like that eats. What kind of food, could you possibly mash together and put on a bun under the bracket of "hamburger" that would satisfy a destructive looking man like that? Bacon seems to be the obvious choice, but bacon's the obvious answer in ANY situation. I'd searched for countless hours, pouring over recipe books at 4 in the morning for the answer. Burger King seems to have beat me to the punch and found the answer in the shredded/fried onion things on the whiplash whopper.

I'm not entirely sure they were onions actually. They're more like the little bits of crunchy shit that I pour down my throat after finished a box of popcorn chicken. Nothing distinctly onionish about them. They just add that required surliness to call this thing a WHIPLASH whopper. There's also a smattering of lettuce and tomatoes and shit. Don't believe me? I don't care if you do. Here's a pic I took half way through eating this monstrosity:Looks like too much tomato and not enough bacon to me. Note the small pieces of onion shit chunk smattered about the greasy wrapper sitting on my lap. You might also notice I'm holding it with a napkin. While I normally do this, because I'm not a fan of horse grease, this particular whopper gave me an everyman's excuse to do so. Thing was DRIPPING in what appeared to be cheese whiz. The official website calls it like a special mayonaise sauce or something but I call bullshit. I know melted cheese whiz when I see it. Too many experiments in my youth with microwavable hot dogs in the oven has taught me better. The cheese is pepperjack cheese, so at the end of the day, this is a spicy one.

The feeling of queasiness after eating this one passed in about 4 hours and I was able to reflect on my life a little bit in that time. Will movie hype always be exciting? Why were there no happy meal toys for the Dark Knight? Would I have been man enough to stand at the counter and ask for them if there had been? Would I EVER get around to writing that hyperbole-filled blog entry on the burger I'd consumed? It was all leading somewhere.

It IS leading somewhere.

I'm not going to condone the Whiplash Whopper. Nor am I going to condemn it as a bad product. If it sounds enticing to you and you want to feel like Mickey Rourke and slop over a meatwhich covered in cheese whiz for five minute muttering shit in a russian accent, than be my guest. This review ended up being my pure stream of consciousness about something that's probably undeserving of so many paragraphs. It's actually just a warm up my friends. The worst motherfucker in the food industry will be blogged about later this week. I've been gearing up to it. Training my stomach. Pouring over the articles of terrified health nuts...yes. I am going to consume the KFC DOUBLE DOWN.

and you all are going to read about it. If you're reading this far then I know you are.

love,
matt (part time whiplash)

2 comments:

  1. you're gonna die. oh god. you're gonna explode and die. can i dibs your batman action figures?

    ReplyDelete
  2. of course. But I'm not going to be dying anytime soon. Not until I've had that double down at least...and ingested more offensive promotional food!

    ReplyDelete