Operation: Christmas Surprise

If you've read this blog before, you're aware that I'm not a fan of Christmas. People look at me weird every time I tell them this. It's very similar to the face I get when I tell people that I still own a VCR. Another thing that I'm not a fan of is surprises, mostly because it's usually a lot of work, and the person is so rarely surprised.

I personally, am a very hard person to surprise. This year, when my friend Lesley made me a "My Adventure Book" from Up for my birthday (Operation: Wet Mess), she told less than 5 people,  in fear that I would pick up some type of clue as to what her gift could possibly be.

So with that...welcome to my personal hell. Operation: Christmas Surprise, where I attempt to surprise my partner of 9 1/2 years. Trying to actually surprise Jason for Christmas is much like Snakes on a Plane, Sharknado, Kanye and Kim, or any other unholy collaboration that comes together under one banner of terror.

I hate trying to surprise Jason. And by hate, I mean loathe to my last agonizing breath.
If you don't believe me, just try surprising Jason sometime. Go on. I dare you. I double dog dare you. And trust me, you will be more frustrated then poor Flick trying dislodge his tongue from that frozen pole.

In order to surprise Jason, you have to become the M. Night Shama-llama-ding-dong of Christmas gift givers. And I'm not talking about M. Night from The Village where everybody saw that ending coming. I'm talking Sixth Sense, Bruce Willis's wife dropping that ring and you feel your soul do a back flip because you have just been bamboozled. You have to come with your A game, and have at least three back up plans if you want to surprise Jay.

If you asked Jay, he would like to say it's because he is so intelligent and observant that he can figure out any type of masterminded attempt to trick or outwit him. But no. It's hard to trick Jason because he is the biggest pain in the ass that you have ever met. And before you go trying to defend him, allow me to share with you a story:

This year for Jason's birthday, he wanted the game Munchkin Zombies. His brother Wayne approached me, and asked if I wanted to go halves on the entire Zombie set. Thinking I was in the clear of any type of paper trail for Jason to "magically" follow, I agreed. Two weeks later, Jay and I went to visit some friends in Temecula. On the way, Jason asked if I would stop at a gaming store so he could "check on some things."
Jason is not very good at following the golden rule of presents. I violated this rule back in the late 90's and Lesley has been reminding me of it ever since (thank you Zebrahead album). For those of you who are unfamiliar with the golden rule of presents, allow me to enlighten you: You are not allowed to buy yourself anything a month before your birthday and Christmas, because there is a large chance that you will be ruining someones gift to you.

Knowing that Jason sucks at this, here is how the conversation went:

Topher: "Ok. But remember that your birthday is coming up and people may have got you something from there."

Jason: "Nobody I know would buy me anything from a gaming store."

Topher: (getting irritated that he is not sensing the tone) "That's not true. There's Brian, Troy, Greg . . . Me.

Jason: "No. Nobody knows I want this. They wouldn't have bought me anything like this."

Upon entering the store, where does he go? Right to the Munchkin section of course, and picks up Munchkin Zombies.

Trying to stay calm I tell him:

Topher: "Honey. I think you should wait until after your birthday to buy that just in case. Besides, we shouldn't spend money right now."

Jason: (sigh of frustration) "Fine."

Topher: "Why are you getting mad at me?"

Jason: "Well it's my birthday. And I want to spend my money the way I want to. But of course no, I can't do the things I want to. It's fine. Whatever. Lets just go."

Topher: "I am just trying to be helpful. I am sure someone really thoughtful got that for you."

Jason: "Oh yeah? Who would even think to get me this?"

Topher: (Finally blowing up) "I DID, MOTHER FUCKER!!!! ME!!!! I'M THE THOUGHTFUL ONE THAT GOT IT FOR YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY, YOU GAY SON OF A BITCH!!!!!"

(Every nerd in the store turns to look at the two fags in the Munchkin section)

Jason: (Pause) "That was very thoughtful of you honey." (Long pause) "So can I buy Munchkin Bites then?"

And that is just one of many fun stories I have about Jason being difficult to surprise. What you're about to read is the behind the scenes scoop for today's story, and what I went through to get Jason his Christmas gift.

June 13th, 2013 - I walked into work and found two giant signs: XBOX ONE and PS4, pre-order today! Jason and I had discussed that we would be buying an XBOX ONE for ourselves for Christmas. He agreed that he would wait until after his birthday to buy the PS4 since we could only afford one system this Christmas. I agreed, and then started phase one of my plan. The beauty of pre-orders at GameStop (for those of you who don't know) is that you can put down money little by little, and that way, you have your item paid in full by pick up.

I didn't tell Jason, but I had saved $100 so I could put a $50 deposit down on both systems. Low and behold, GameStop had screwed me over and raised the minimum deposit on the new systems to $100. Which sadly meant one thing: I only had enough money for one. Knowing Jason was planning for the XBOX One, and having read Gift of the Magi, the last thing I wanted to do was lie and put the money on the PS4. So I put my deposit down on what we had agreed, and started brainstorming of how I could get myself a PS4.

Enter my little Sri Lankan Angel, Jehan. Right before Comic Con, we were sharing a conversation about the new systems. Jehan had put a deposit down on a PS4, but was having second thoughts about paying that much money for one. Getting struck with brilliance, I told him if he changed his mind I would buy his pre-order off of him. Two weeks later, I got the confirmation that he was not going to be getting his PS4 and that I could have his pre-order. In exchange for his PS4, I paid off some of his other games, and then kept the PS4 under his name so Jason wouldn't pull up our account and see it there.

For the next few months, I never said a thing about buying him a present. It was like it didn't even happen. Behind his back, everyone of his gaming friends knew he was getting a PS4. And by gaming friends, I mean his friends we game with on our Xbox 360 or PS3, not his D&D friends. I purposefully didn't say anything to them because they constantly tell people how consoles are terrible and destroying the world. PC gamers. The hipsters of the VG World. 

Even my co-workers knew. I swore every member of my staff to secrecy. I informed them that if any of them so much as breathed a word about the PS4 in front of Jason, I would have their head. Apparently I am very convincing.

At home, I repeatedly talked trash on the PS4, just to throw Jason off the scent. At work, I started pulling longer shifts and working overtime, just to help pay off his PS4 without him noticing. Every now and again, he would ask me to pay for things, and I told him I was on a tight budget. This worked, because I had an XBOX One and several pre-ordered games to pay off as well. He even started making shitty comments too!

Like when I told him to be nice or I was going to give his Christmas present back. He replied with: "Oh no. I guess I won't be getting more T-shirts and underwear this year." After that comment, I had half the mind to wrap all the parts of his gift in T-shirts and underwear.

At the PS4 midnight launch, we got in 12 extra PS4s. You should have seen the look on Jason's face. He was so butt-hurt that he couldn't afford to buy himself one, but he kept talking himself out of it. His mantra for the next few weeks was "I can wait until after my birthday." Little did he know that I picked up his system the next day (I had to wait until he wasn't with me) and it sat in his mother's closet for over a month because I didn't want to hide it at our house.

The following week I got a phone call from his mother, asking if I could get her a PS4 because that is what Jason told her he wanted for Christmas. Normally I would be pissed that he went behind my back and told his mother to get him something that we'd already planned to get. But it didn't matter. He clearly didn't know that I'd gotten it. Plus, the PS4 was sold out everywhere. What a great, and TRUE excuse. The chances of someone else ruining my gift suddenly became nonexistent.

Occasionally, I would throw out phrases like: "I'm sorry I couldn't afford to get you a PS4 for Christmas" or "Hey, we're at Target. Ask them if they have PS4s. I am willing to go in for half of it with you."

Six months, eleven days, and two hours of: planning, lying, plotting, omitting, and misdirecting finally paid off.
I decided to let Jason open his PS4 on Christmas Eve. Originally I wanted to just have it set up in the bedroom and wait to see how long it took for him to realize it was there. Lesley suggested that I have him open it on Christmas Eve. "He won't be expecting his big gift the day before Christmas and then he gets to wake up and enjoy all of Christmas day, knowing he got exactly what he wanted."

You know, I have to admit, Lesley really is a super genius

(Picture of Jason opening his PS4, Elite Pulse Headset, Killzone 4, Knack, Need For Speed: Rivals and extra Controller on Christmas Eve)

***Note*** I made him read this blog immediately after opening his gift, just so he would know the hell I went through to get here.

Lies My Parents Told Me

Every time I sneeze, I fight the urge to close my eyes. Odd right? When I was younger, I was told that if you sneeze with your eyes open, they'll fall out. While I assume most children would be horrified by this idea, I was rather fascinated by it. Over the course of my life I have tried to to prove this theory false. Even at 32, I am still trying to stop my eyes from involuntarily shutting during a sneeze. Could you imagine the looks people would give you if you sneezed your eyeball out of its socket?

I blame my parents for this behavior. Much like all parents, my mother and father told me the dumbest things when I was a child. Part of me wonders if it was a tool they used to deal with such an ostentatious child. In reality, my parents are assholes just like me, always seeing what outlandish idea they can make people believe. So for all you gulla-bulls out there that I have tricked before, you can blame Doug and Virgina Huckaby. And if you are want to give them a piece of your mind, their email address is ADHuckaby@gmail.com. I'm sure they would love to hear about the terror they created.

Not every lie my parents told me were believable. How could Santa always be watching? There was no documented evidence that supported this. Too much television was apparently not bad for my eyes. They just got tired of watching He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. (On a side note: Anybody ever notice how incredibly homoerotic that show is? Seriously. He "held aloft" his "magic sword"? Who says stuff like that? And I know it's not just me. I even had this conversation with my friend Kathy. I challenge you to turn on your Netflix, find He-Man, and watch one episode. You can even choose which one. Let me know how that turns out for you)

Being the inquisitive child that I was, I started conducting my own experiments to see if there was any truth to these loads of BS my parents would tell me. For example:

1.) Refrigerator Man- I use to keep the refrigerator door open all the time. My mother told me once that there was a little man that lived in our refrigerator that gets mad when we leave the door open. To which I responded, "Wouldn't he get mad at us for locking him in there?" I did go looking for said man, once. I don't know if it was more out of curiosity or fear that he would eat my Snicker Eggs. After three long hours, and one broken refrigerator, it turns out that there was no little man in the refridgerator afterall.

2.) The Pee Shower- I must admit, no child wants to be urinated on. I don't know if that is true for all adults, but that is an entirely other subject that I wish not to get into at this time. For myself, the idea of being covered in urine does not sound appealing. However, there was one time in my life I was willing to sacrifice my comfort in the name of science. I was 8 years old, and my mother told me that if I pee in the shower, it will come right back out of the shower head. After long hours of telling myself she was wrong, I tested it. Turns out she was wrong. Which I have to say, it was a good thing, because had she been right, I would have had a mouthful of pee. No good can come from that.

3.) It's Chicken- I asked a lot of questions as a child. Particularly about food cooked by my Cajun relatives. Whenever I was about to eat something and knew nothing about it, I would ask my father what it was. His go to answer, "It's Chicken." While I admit to believing him the first few times, I did catch on pretty quick. Chicken never changed color, texture, or flavor. It was only until later in life that I learned exactly what I had consumed. I am here to tell you that: Raccoon, Squirrel, Coyote, Alligator and Snake do not taste like Chicken.

4.) It will stay that way- Your parents ever tell you if you make a face or cross your eyes for too long it will stay that way? Mine did. I think they just wanted me to stop making faces at people in public. It didn't really help. I tried to get my eyes to stay crossed for the longest time. I thought it would be hilarious.

I will admit, there were some lies that I should have known where not true. Like what kind of logic is there to the crust of the bread has all the vitamins?  And yes I was a little naive to think I was going to grow a watermelon inside me because I ate the seeds. The Tooth Fairy has to be my favorite lie I should have seen through. When you get $5 from the Tooth Fairy, and your friend gets 50 cents, that should be your first sign. Or when your parents tell you the Tooth Fairy was quote "too tired and left your money on the kitchen table," that's just a poor work ethic, and she would loose her job.

I do have to hand it to my parents. They did feed me a lot of bullshit over the years. And some of it I believed all the way up to my 30's. That's right. Even I can be fooled every now and again.

For my final thought, I would like to direct this to my friends with children. Be careful about the things you tell your children. Hopefully you have a child that is forgiving or even a child that will pass on these lies to their children like some type of honored tradition. But pray you don't have any children like me, for I am plotting my moment for when the tables will turn and I get to show my parents just what type of trickster they have raised.

The Brightest Crayon in the Box

My previous blog (Lies My Parents Told Me) created a lot of good conversations between me and my friends. Apparently, everyone was very intrigued to know what were some of the lies that took me until my 30's to figure out. Because I have no shame, and I am pretty sure everyone reading this believed at least a few of these, I decided to share my list with you.

10 LIES I THOUGHT WERE TRUE:
1.) Cracking your knuckles will give you arthritis:

Cracking your knuckles (or any of your joints) can have therapeutic benefits. When you crack one of your joints you are pulling the bones that are connected at the joint apart from each other. This process stimulates your tendons, relaxes your muscles, and loosens your joints. Chiropractors do this for spinal joints when your back is sore and stiff, but you can do this on your own for your knuckles, toes, knees, neck, etc." I crack my knuckles ALL THE TIME. Call it a nervous habit, call it keeping my hands occupied, whatever. All I can say is it relaxes me and I like it.

Last year, I was talking to my doctor about a problem I was having with my thumb. I asked her if I was getting early on set of arthritis due to cracking my knuckles. She laughed at me and pointed me to a scientific study about knuckle cracking.

Unfortunately, there can be too much of a good thing. Cracking your knuckles will never lead to arthritis (despite what your mom keeps telling you), but scientists have discovered that it can cause tissue damage in the affected joints. Knuckle-cracking pulls your finger bones apart which stretches your ligaments. Too much stretching of your ligaments will cause damage to your fingers akin to the arm injuries sustained by a baseball pitcher who throws too many pitches. In addition to making your hand really sore, this ligament damage can also result in reduced grip strength.

Is this better or worse then arthritis? I am not sure. But what I do know is that I wasted 20 years of my life worrying I was going to have arthritis before 40. Thanks Mom.

2.) Swallowing gum will last for 7 years
This is probably one of the most highly believable myths a kid hears. If this was in fact true, I would have so much gum in my stomach, it would probably take to the year 2187 to remove from my body. While it is true that gum can't be digested, the idea that it will just stick to your stomach wall, essentially sitting in a vat of hydrochloric acid, is rather ridiculous. It simply passes through your digestive tract, alongside any other food, your allowance, action figure accessories, or any other objects which can't be digested. I will tell you, before anyone starts ingesting all the gum they can: There is a small risk of large quantities of gum sticking to each other, causing a blockage in the digestive tract that no amount of Long John Silvers would be able to dislodge. Food for Thought (see what I did there?)

3.) Wet hair/sick
Surveys have suggested that as many as 40% of parents tell their children that if you leave the house with wet hair, you will get sick. However, wetness really has nothing to do with it; far more important is being exposed to a cold virus. A link has been found to cold weather drying out your nasal lining, making you more susceptible to 1 of the 200 or so viruses known to cause colds. Coupled with a tendency to stay indoors, close to other people who may be carrying the virus, and you have a potent cold-inducing combination through the winter months, but wet hair really has nothing to do with it. I think my parents were just embarrassed to be seen with me looking like I got off the set of Oliver Twist.

4.) Swimming after you eat gives you cramps
I am sure everyone has heard this before. I actually did some research on this because I wanted to see where the idea came from. Apparently, eating diverts blood away from the muscles to the stomach, thereby increasing the chances of cramps and drowning. The motive for telling people this is clearly to save lives, but the logic is fundamentally flawed. Cramps are often caused by muscle fatigue, dehydration and other factors, such as lack of sodium. However, none of these factors have any correlation to eating just prior to exercise, and in some cases, it could even be argued that replenishing your energy whilst exercising could actually reduce the risk of cramping. Take that Jillian Michael s, you psycho hose-water bee-otch. (Did I mention I don't really care for her?)

5.) Coffee stunts your growth
This is possibly the oddest of our entries, primarily because I am one of the tallest people you probably know. How this myth even got started is something of a mystery. However, a possible explanation would be that parents try to deter kids from drinking something which makes them hyperactive.  Mine also use to tell me that when the Ice Cream Truck has a song playing, it means they are out of ice cream. I assume this was for the same reason. Whatever the explanation, the bottom line is this: coffee will not influence height. Numerous studies have been done into the effects of coffee on the body. Some suggest it reduces the risk of certain cancers. Others say it may reduce the risk of type-II diabetes or increase male fertility. Nowhere has it been shown that drinking coffee stunts your growth.

6.) Walt on Ice (coming soon to Madison Square Garden)
Walt Disney died on December 15, 1966, but a rumor has long persisted that his body was cryogenically frozen and is held in storage under Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean ride, ready for the day when science will come up with the cure for lung cancer. The origin of this urban legend, so far, is unknown.
In reality, Disney’s body was cremated soon after his death. Legal documents exist that indicate his ashes were interred two days after his cremation in a marked vault at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Glendale, California. The first instance of cryonic preservation occurred a full year after his death.
This actually made me sad. I really wanted this to be true.

7.) Sewer Gators
Oddly enough, there is a grain of truth behind this legend. "The documented capture of an eight-foot alligator at the bottom of an East Harlem manhole in 1935 (though no one at the time assumed it actually lived down there). It was theorized at the time that the creature must have tumbled off a steamer visiting the northeast 'from the mysterious Everglades, or thereabouts,' and swam up the Harlem River. It met an unfortunate end at the hands of the teenage boys who found it."
I wish I would have known this back when I was 5. I wouldn't have been so scared to sit on a toilet. Thanks Dad.

8.) Daddy Long Leg Spiders
A widespread myth holds that daddy longlegs, are the most venomous spiders in the world. We're only safe from their bite, we are told, because their fangs are too small and weak to break through human skin.
It turns out that the notion is false on both counts. According to entomologists at the University of California, Riverside, the term "daddy longlegs" live in moist, dark places and eat mostly decomposing vegetable and animal matter. "They do not have venom glands, fangs or any other mechanism for chemically subduing their food," the UC entomologists write on their website. "Therefore, they do not have poison and, by the powers of logic, cannot be poisonous from venom. Some have defensive secretions that might be poisonous to small animals if ingested. So, for these daddy longlegs, the tale is clearly false."

I think the person I am most disappointed with over this issue is Jason. For somebody so deathly afraid of spiders, I thought you would have known about this.

9.) Waking a sleepwalker
-  Ever hear that you can kill a sleep walker from waking them? The chances of killing a sleepwalker due to the shock of sudden awakening, however, is about as likely as somebody expiring from a dream about dying. While it is true that waking a sleepwalker, especially forcefully, may distress them, it is an absolutely false statement that someone would die from shock, says Michael Salemi, general manager at the California Center for Sleep Disorders. "You can startle sleepwalkers, and they can be very disoriented when you wake them up and they can have violent, or confused reactions, but I have not heard of a documented case of someone dying from being woken up." Sleepwalking's hazard is more closely linked to what the sleepwalker may encounter when roaming about in a nocturnal reverie.
Imagine my embarrassment when I got this question wrong in the middle of my Psychopathology class. Kudos, Mom.

10.) 5 Second Rule
In households, restaurant kitchens, and almost anywhere people prepare or consume food, you'll occasionally hear someone call out "five-second rule." This refers to the concept that if food hits the floor and you snatch it up in less than five seconds, it's safe to eat."

Yes, someone really has conducted a scientific study of the five-second rule. It was the project of high school senior Jillian Clarke during a six-week internship in the food science and nutrition department at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Jillian swabbed the floors around the University in the lab, hall, dormitory, and cafeteria to see how many organisms could detected. The floors were so clean, from a microbiological point of view, because floors are dry, and most pathogens like salmonella, listeria, or E. coli can't survive without moisture.

To control the study, cookies and gummi bears were placed on both rough and smooth sterile tiles covered with measured amounts of E. coli, which did show a transfer of germs before five seconds. "All bets are off when it comes to carpet, damp floors, gum, or ice cream, as these were not included in the study."
Clarke also conducted a survey in which 70% of women and 56% of men said they were familiar with the rule. Women were more likely to invoke it. Not surprisingly, people are inclined to eat dropped cookies and candy more often than dropped broccoli and cauliflower.

For her work, Clarke was awarded an Ig Nobel prize in 2004 at Harvard University. Ig Nobel prizes recognize "research that first makes you laugh, then makes you think." Also honored at the ceremony was the inventor of karaoke music.

I honestly just found this article funny, and had to include it. Also, this was the board game Donna got for the family to play on Christmas. The slogan on the front of the box........priceless

Things That Make Me Go Mmmmmm

It's that time of year again.

Christmas season is about to begin.

To the normal human being, this usually means three things: the weather gets colder, the music gets jollier, and the people get nicer. I, however, am not normal. Christmas season for me "tis" not the season to be merry, or the most wonderful time of year. While the cold weather matches nicely with my cold heart, the other two signs of the Christmas season do not sit well with me. In fact, Christmas music alone has conditioned my brain to send me into bitch mode just to withstand the crazy ass customers that I have helped every Christmas since 1999.

I know what you're thinking: What kind of person hates Christmas? What are you Topher? Ebeneezer Scrooge?

Personally, I like to think of myself more as The Grinch. I can better relate to a green animal/monster thingy who smells bad and lives on a mountain with his dog; rather then a rich old man who got dumped by some whiny chick and has hated Christmas ever since. (Though, it would be cool to have a friend named Fezziwig. Just sayin'.)

And while three ghosts would never visit me to "change my ways," there are somethings on this planet that can make my heart grow three sizes in one day. And what are these magical items? Seasonal food.

That's right. I have moments of the year that make me happy because some edible delight is about to come back out of hibernation and I forget that I am a Grinch and act more like Cindy-Lou Who, who was no more than two . . . but less gay . . . sometimes.

I know it says a lot about me that food can make me happy. I like to think of myself as a simple man. I don't need expensive gifts, just a sandwich or perhaps a good beer. I don't need to be taken on a vacation, just to all-you-can-eat sushi. It doesn't even have to be an expensive dinner. Sometimes a Western Bacon Cheeseburger from Carl's Jr. will make me right as rain. So if you ever have to tell me bad news, please present me with one of the following items to soften the blow...

TOPHER HUCKABY'S SEASONS OF LOVE . . . FOOD:

10.) Corned Beef and Cabbage.

Yes, I know. I can technically have Corned Beef and Cabbage anytime of the year. But sometimes I feel like I am cheating on St. Patty's Day (like the day is more of a person then the actual St. Patrick himself). Did I mention I am not normal? There is something about that holy combination of food that sings to me like an angelic symphony. The more people who tell me they hate Corned Beef and Cabbage actually make me happy. By mathematical logic alone, the less other people eat equals more for me. I don't see a problem with this.

9.) Pumpkin Pie Pop Tarts.

 I discovered these hidden treasures about two years ago. Normally I am the Brown Sugar and Cinnamon type of Pop-Tart guy. But upon discovery of a new flavor of Pop-Tart, I did what any self respecting connoisseur of good pastries would do, I indulged. And then I over indulged. I believe I bought about five boxes before they left me like a scorned mistress. Little by little throughout the year, I found myself being drawn in by their Siren's Song of deliciousness. If it wasn't for these little buddies, I may not have made it through the Hostess Apocalypse of 2013. What does a man do when his Chocodiles have left him? Grab a Pumpkin Pie Pop Tart. While they may leave you in the chaos of Black Friday, they always return to you in October.

8.) Del Taco's Baja Shrimp Burrito.

 Last year I gave up fried food for Lent. That lasted 30 minutes. Call it lack of self control. Call me a slave to my desires. But nothing you can say will ever take away my love for those damn burritos. I couldn't give up fried foods and go a whole year without savoring the rich zesty goodness that is the Baja Shrimp Burrito. To me, that's crazier then letting a food dominate my behavior. 

7.) The Count Chocula Cereal Series.

 I am a believer that everyone loves at least one of these cereals. Count Chocula, Frakenberry and Booberry are three of the most crazy delicious cereals I have ever had. Sure they may turn your milk a weird color in under three minutes. Of course they are loaded with sugar and a ton of other things that are horrible for you. And yes, to be addicted to a cereal without a prize inside the box is breaking the Child Code. But every Halloween I am running to the cereal isle so I can grab as many of those boxes I can fit in my giant Sasquatch hands.

6.) Olive Garden's Pumpkin Cheesecake.

This sinfully delicious dessert got me through some hard times in the six years I worked at the OG. I remember training a class of servers and had to stop mid lesson just so I could be the first person in the restaurant to partake of that wonderful goodness. A few years ago my grandmother called me at work to inform me that my uncle had passed away, and the only comfort I had was a Pumpkin Cheesecake. Now I am not saying that one bite into that cheesecake and I forgot why I was sad. I'm not a monster. But I will admit that it did help to calm me down. Before you judge me, try the Pumpkin Cheesecake, it is THAT good.

5.) The Mc Rib.

There are two types of people in the world. Those who love the McRib, and those who don't. If you are one of the latter, I am here to tell you that I understand why you don't like it. It's basically meat, pickles, onions, BBQ sauce and bread. It can be called over-priced for what all comes on the sandwich itself. And I wonder sometimes if it is actually rib meat and, if so, from what animal(s). But before my McRib brethren call me a blasphemer, I have a rebuttal...ehem...Clearly...there is some mystical reason that makes the McRib so amazing. I have been eating that thing every year since I was five, and I still, to this day, can't figure out what is it that draws me into McDonald's every October. Sure their BBQ sauce is pretty great for fast food. Yes their pickles have some type of drug in them that make you want to increase the amount on your burger every time you are there. And yes, the onions at McDonalds should be called Flavor Crystals, because that is what they basically are. On paper, the McRib makes no sense. That combo of items together just doesn't sound appetizing, no matter how well you write it. And yet, its just so damn delicious. I think we will discover Jimmy Hoffa's body before we discover why people love the McRib.

4.) Red Lobsters Endless Shrimp.

Screw Endless Pasta Bowl. Work one whole season of Endless Pasta, and you will see everything that is wrong with America. With that being said, at the risk of sounding hypocritical, I looooooooooooove Endless Shrimp at Red Lobster. Cheddar Bay biscuits + all you can eat shrimp = crazy delicious. I stopped eating the all you can eat shrimp at Sizzler because it just felt wrong after enjoying the many selections that Red Lobster has to offer. I am starting to realize why I am over-weight.

3.) Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies.

You show me someone who doesn't love at least one type of Girl Scout cookie, and I will show you a liar. I will not debate with you for a second that their could be someone on the planet who doesn't get a little happy when March rolls around and those cookies start pouring in. Those Caramel Delights are awesome, the Peanut Butter Sandwiches are great. But those Thin Mint cookies are scrum-dittely-umscious. There was a time back in college when I had twelve boxes of them frozen in my freezer. They were my "had a bad day" food. You knew it was bad if you came over and I was curled up on the couch with a glass of milk and a sleeve of Thin Mint cookies. Now a days, I only keep about three stored in my freezer. Maybe its cause I grew as a person. Maybe its because I haven't been single in over nine years. Or maybe its because of the next two items.

2.) Cranberry Bliss Bars.

 My tag line for these little treasures has been the same for the last seven years: "If Heaven were a pastry, it would be the Cranberry Bliss Bar." It has the word "bliss" in the name for God's sake! Every year I have a standing order with Starbucks to give me two trays of those little triangles of joy. And by the end of the season, I have probably purchased about twelve trays. No I don't eat that many in two months. I share them . . . sometimes. And what I don't eat is stored in my freezer.

I would like to take this moment to thank William Cullen, the man who invented the freezer. You sir have saved my sanity more then you will ever know. I tip my hat to you, good sir. Kudos. No notes for you.

1.) Snickers Egg

I always get the same question. Aren't they just Snickers in egg shape? I never really answer people when they ask me this. I usually just walk over to my freezer, assemble the Snicker Eggs, and allow them to experience the amazing splendor themselves. Since I can't do this over the internet, I am going to do my best to explain the magical dynamic that plays out in a Snickers Egg. Yes, in theory, it is just Snickers bar shaped like an eggs. However, much like communism, this only works in theory. The reality is that the chocolate, caramel, peanut and nougat ratio is different in a Snickers Egg due to its size and shape. Back in the day, when the Snicker conglomerate wasn't greedy, they sold them as whole eggs. These days, they only come in egg halves. But that never stopped me. Much like Tic Tacs, I can only eat Snickers Egg in pairs of two. I take two halves and place them back to back, so I create a whole egg. And that, my good friends, is where the magic happens.

Over the years I have made a lot of people experience the wonder that is the whole Snickers Egg. And after every sample, I offer one warning: "After this sample, do not eat any of my snicker eggs, or I will END YOU!" I know I am a person who likes to play jokes, and rarely do people take me seriously. That is of course except for the subject that was just under discussion. The price you pay for taking one of my Snickers Eggs without asking is, I collect your f*cking head (I may have seen Kill Bill one too many times). My friends joke and laugh about someone eating my Snickers Eggs, but only two people on this planet have ever eaten my Snicker Eggs without asking. One is my husband Jason and the other is his mother. And if they ever go missing one year, assume that their yearly donation of three dozen Snicker Eggs were not sacrificed to my alter (my freezer).

Yes, I am aware I have problems. Yes, I know food shouldn't rule me the way that it does. But I know that every person has that one guilty pleasure that deep down inside they go crazy over. I'm just the fat ass that admits it.

The PenIs Mightier

Ever play that game would you rather? My friend Lesley and I use to do this all the time when we were in high school. We came up with some of the greatest conundrums to debate over, that still to this day I have no answer to. For example: would you rather pee out your nose or smell with your genitals? Others were clear cut answers. My favorite to this day is: would you rather sweat cologne or fart confetti? I don't care who you are, but the choice is clearly fart confetti. Who wouldn't want to be their own party popper? To question that is just crazy talk.

I can't remember when the topic came up, but Lesley had asked me once if I would rather be a man or a woman. This question falls in to the later category that require no deliberation. Given the choice, I would always choose to be a man. I have a list the size of Rhode Island of why I would never EVER want to be a woman. It starts with pregnancy and menstrual cramps, and ends somewhere along the lines of uneven boob size. And don't even get me started on waxing and makeup. F that.

Just the other day, Lesley asked to ponder the issue; what are some of things that suck about being a man? Being the sarcastic shit that I am, I replied "Well, nothing." She didn't really respond. So I told her the first thing that popped into my head. "Dating women?" This is also the same time that I realized, I should really start thinking before I say the first thing that pops into my head. She still didn't respond, but she didn't have to. Lesley just gave me the same look I get from her when I wear inappropriate shirts in front of her daughter. You know that look...the one that says "I'm going to steal your soul from your body with just a glare." She has really mastered that look over the years. Thanks Jacob.

To make her stop giving me the "Lesley Look of Doom," I came up with a list of what sucks about being a man. For all of my male readers, maybe you can relate to some of these. For all my female readers, maybe this can give you some insight on things that men put up with. If my mom is reading this, this is a good time for you to stop, and go back to playing golf or whatever it is you do in that retirement communi-city you live in. It will just be easier for both of us if you do... less to explain later.

TOPHER HUCKABY'S LIST OF WHAT SUCKS ABOUT BEING A MAN:

10.) Morning wood - I have not yet figured out why 9 out of 10 mornings I wake up to an erection and a full bladder. Where is the problem? I'm glad you asked. I sleep on my stomach. Which means I also wake up with my fully erect penis bent upward and sandwiched between my stomach and the mattress. For those of you who don't have a penis, this type of genital yoga is never comfortable. In fact, this pain is what I think actually wakes me up in the morning. Which is followed by the 2 minute debate of do I get up and go to the bathroom, or lay here some more because while one part of my body is in pain, the rest of it is damn comfortable. The bathroom always wins. This could also be why I hate mornings.

This brings me to my next point:

9.) Trying to pee with an erection. This is not fun. If I had a urinal in my house, this would be no problem. But since I don't, in order to go to the bathroom when my penis is hard as I rock, I am left with only two options. Option A: contort my body into some position where I am able to get a direct shot into the toilet. Option B: Bend my penis down towards the toilet and suffer through the pain. None of these are comfortable, relaxing, or enjoyable, which are the 3 things a man looks for when entering a bathroom. Why do you think we bring reading material with us? On that note, notice that I did not mention sitting down as an option. This is just an all around bad idea because you now have to do both A and B, but also have your penis wedged up against the cold porcelain lip of the toilet. No good comes from this.

8.) Manscaping. Any man can shave his face, but it takes some ninja skills to shave your balls. Why? Once again, I'm glad you asked. You're very insightful today. For those of you without testicles, they were not meant for shaving. How do you shave skin that just hangs there and molds like Silly Putty? Waxing is completely out of the question. I know it's an irrational fear, but every man thinks that if you do wax, you will end up tearing off your balls in the process. This is not a happy thought.

The time it takes to twist, turn and shape your testicles is unreal, plus, one wrong cut, and there goes your sex life. Did I mention cuts in this area take forever to heal, because when you get hard, your skin stretches, which basically opens up any cuts you have. The man who figures out the sure fire way to do this safely in under five minutes would make millions. Most men won't admit to shaving their "boys," but I have no shame...I do it. You know why? I can't tell you how many times a day I have to remove my balls from the death grip they have on the side of my leg. Ever rip tape off your body when that part of your body had hair on it? Imagine if both sides had hair. Welcome to the wonderful world of having hairy balls. And by wonderful, I mean annoying as hell and painful as...you get the picture.

7.) The Handyman. Just because I have a penis, doesn't mean I know how to: work on a car, repair a screen door, build a bookshelf, rewire a house, lay cement, repair a toilet, put in a sprinkler system, or renovate your bathroom. This is not something I was programed to do while I was in my mother's womb (you stopped reading this like I asked you to, right Mom?). True, some men do know how to do some of these things. Maybe even all of them. But not all men are Fix-It Felix Jr. I don't have a magic hammer that can fix everything. Is that a "gigitty" moment? My brain isn't working correctly after imagining my balls getting torn off in a "Wax Gone Wrong" situation.

6.) Proposing. This is never a fun time in a man's life. You have to go out and pick up the perfect ring, and by perfect, I mean the ring that she has been dreaming about her entire life, dropped "subtle" hints about since you became an official couple, and would ruin the proposal if you didn't get the exact one because any other ring would be a symbol of how much you don't care or pay attention to her. Don't try to deny this ladies. I've seen every episode of Sex and The City. I know how you all think. 

And if that isn't bad enough, you then have to plan out a romantic way to pop the question. News flash: men are not romantic. You're probably thinking right now, "Well my _____________ is romantic." No. Your _________ is not romantic. Your _________ has duped you into thinking he's romantic. You show me a man that is romantic, and I will show you a romantic illusionist. Men are not wired to come up with these cute and loving moments that you treasure and squeal about to your girlfriends. What they will do is think about it non-stop, ask people for advice, and finally consult any chick flick they can lay their hands on to come up with an idea that will look thoughtful and loving. Why do you think I watched every Sex and The City? Research.

How did I propose, you ask? I looked at Jason and said, "Well, nothing about this proposal has been traditional, so, here ya go," and threw him the box that had his ring in it. So romantic. Did I mention I would be Big?

5.) Woman live longer then men. True its only about 10 years, but I want those 10 years, damn it.

4.) Prostate exams. Prostate cancer is the male body's version of Russian Roulette. At some point, you get the bullet. Every man dreads the day that they have to start having their doctor poke around their bum, looking for the thing that could one day take their ability to have erections, and have you wearing a diaper for two months. This not a pleasant thought. This is right up there with waxing. 

3.) Impotence. When you're a woman, you can pretty much have sex whenever you want. Even during menopause, when parts of you stop working, you can still have sex. If you're a guy, and you can't get hard, that's pretty much it for you. I imagine this is what caged animals feel like. Remembering a time when they use to be free, to do what they want, any old time. And yes they have pills out there to help with that, but its embarrassing to admit that you need help to get an erection. It's like asking for directions. It's like you're admitting defeat. And Goonies never say die! (Guy Logic).

2.) Losing your hair. While women worry about their figure, men worry about their hair. You ever hear anyone say, "Hey, that bald guy is hot," or "I love running my fingers through your hair . . . that's on the side of your head." No, you don't. Right after you turn 18, men fear the day that their hair will fall out.

1.) Multiple orgasms. No matter how hard we try, or how much we think we can take, we can never match the woman's ability to repeatedly orgasm. This is the ultimate woman trump card. Whenever you hear a guy saying that it must suck to be a woman, play this card, and you will have won the argument. For all you woman who stuck with this blog, even after the hairy balls, this smoking gun is your reward for being a true fan. Go forth into the world, and use what I have given you wisely. Like Uncle Ben said to Peter Parker, "With great power, comes great responsibility."

So there you have it. Ten things that suck about being a man. Now if you'll excuse me, Jason needs me to go fix our air conditioner.

Even Millie sees it.

I might like you better if we...weren't Facebook friends

Hey everyone. It's Lesley again. 

Sup?

A few months ago, I made the decision to quit Facebook.  People have asked me if I miss it, and the truth is, I don’t. My relationship has improved, I’m able to give my daughter my full attention, and, I like my friends more. 

Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.  

We've all been there.  One day at lunch, your friend Barbara says that she’s trying to lose weight, but her next Facebook post is a picture of her at some novelty restaurant, face smeared with barbecue sauce, wearing a bib that says “I ate the Big Kahuna!” with the caption “New record! 52 ounce steak in 15 minutes!”  
Barbara…God D*mn it. I bet you’re going to cancel our walk tomorrow too. 

But this isn't about Barbara. 

It’s about the things that we all do that annoy the crap out of each other on Facebook. And I’m calling you out. Because I’m not on there, so you can’t un-friend me.

Let’s just dive right in, shall we? Let’s see how many of you see your friends, loved ones or, gasp, even yourself, in these Facebook types:

 Search Engine Impaired Guy –  “What do Disneyland annual passes cost?” “What’s the name of that new movie with Jennifer Aniston?” Seriously?  I know you have a data plan on your phone. You’re using it to post on Facebook.  If you’re lonely and need attention, just post a picture of your junk. At least that’s entertaining and it doesn't require any of your friends to do research on your behalf.  Lazy bastard.

The Weatherman – Now, I love that Facebook helps to keep me connected to my family and friends in other states. I enjoy seeing my aunt in Nebraska post a gorgeous photo titled: “First Snow.”

But you know what I DON’T need?  “It’s hot.” “Man, it’s hot.” This bugs me specifically when the weather being reported is typical for this time of year…I mean, if you live in Palm Springs, and it’s August and SNOWING, by all means, post that! I wanna know that the apocalypse is starting.

Generally though, that’s not the case. Instead it’ll be one of my friends from San Bernardino, saying “Man, it’s almost 100!” And nobody “likes” it except their mom (clearly a sympathy “like”)…and nobody comments…because there’s nothing to say except “Yep. According to the Farmer’s Almanac, for the past 150 years, the average temp hovers around 98. In 1951, there was a low of 88, and a high of 103 in 1996.” Seriously dude. If you’re that compelled to report the weather, I hear there’s an internship at KCAL 9.

The Fisherman –  I think that this is everyone’s favorite to make fun of.  Their posts are always cryptic and give just enough information to make you worry, and generate a comment thread that goes on longer than the ship in the opening scene of Space Balls.

Common posts include:

“Emergency room visits are always fun.”

“Seriously don’t think I can handle this for one more minute.”

“I give and I give and this is how you treat me.”

Let me be clear…This is only acceptable if you’re The Riddler, and even then, it’s still annoying. 

What you’re doing is the in-person equivalent of a big sigh.  We all know that when someone gives us the big sigh it means:  “PLEASE ask me what’s wrong…I mean, I’ll say nothing, but if you keep trying, eventually I’ll tell you.” 

So, the fisherman posts his teaser status update and within moments, the floodgates open and all the posts come in:  “What’s wrong sweetie?” “This too, shall pass.” I feel like Dr. Phil and practically scream at these well-meaning souls:  “Stop enabling him!!!”

Honestly, my first reaction is never concern. I’m always overcome with the desire to post something untrue that would really embarrass them.

Fisherman: “I don’t think I can handle this. Prayers please.”

Me: “I told you! Relax and use more lube.”

Fisherman: “Should I really go through with this?”

Me: “We all agree that you’ll look much better as a woman than a man. I mean, it can’t get any worse, can it?”

The only reason I don’t do this is out of fear.  Fear that one day, one time, their status will actually be something horrible. 99% of the time it’s not. They’re probably just in a long line at Wal-Mart or waiting for the results of their smog check.  But what if, the ONE time I chime in, they just found out that they have cancer of the puppy and then I’m the a-hole for eternity.

The Obsessed Facebook Gamer – You know who you are. You don’t even have a profile photo, but you’ve sent me game requests 3 times today.  Ehem…I DON’T GIVE A SH*T ABOUT YOUR FARM!!

John Madden – You didn't sign up for a play-by-play, but you're getting one. He’ll go for weeks with not a single post and then, over a 3 hour period, will post 15 times, and send my phone into freak-out mode, simultaneously causing me great worry and draining my cell phone battery.

Post thread:

“Worst call ever.”

*moments later* “Sacked again!”

*moments later* “Interception in the redzone? Why?!?”

First of all, if we cared about the game, we’d be watching it. Your out of context posts mean nothing to me. Second, you’re ruining the game for people that may want to watch it when they get home. That’s just rude.  Spoiler alert!  On that note….

Spoiler Alert Guy – I have actually removed people from my newsfeed for being this type of a-hole.  Opening day of a new movie, this chump blasts out a major plot point.  “Omg! When Tom Hanks lost his volleyball in the ocean I was dying! WIIIILLLLSOOOON! GAH!!! #cryinglikeabitch”

Look, if you wanna post some feedback, that’s great!

DO:  Sex and The City Two was a serious waste of my time and money. Bleh! 

DON’T:  OMG Sex and The City Two was so bad! The part when Liza Minnelli performed at the wedding was great but all downhill from there. Plus the whole Aiden/Carrie cheating thing. Ugh. Break my heart!

No joke, I've had people that post of Facebook immediately following a new episode of The Walking Dead “Can’t believe that so and so died! Epic surprise!”  

Spoiler Alert:  You’re a douche.

I could go on….we all know “Workout” guy, “Incorrect grammar all the time” guy, “Never posts anything but memes” guy and “Pocket post” guy, where they can never seem to remember to lock their screen so half of their posts are “hoiho9870987.” 

Let’s all work on being considerate with our Facebook posts.

I really don’t think I can handle this anymore….

Emergency room visits are always fun.

I give and I give….and this is how you treat me.

My Forgasm

I had another fatty moment today. For those of you who have never read my blog before, I refer to myself as a fatty because I love food, not because I am the size of a Sasquatch. The term foody sounds to, how should I put this, gay for me. Try using it in a sentence sometimes. You feel very homosexual afterwards. Example: "Bob and I are big foodies. We just love sampling a little bit of everything. It's the foody in us." Gay, right?

Fatty's, such as myself, love food and will eat just about anything. That's right, even some fatty's have their limits. Mine is avocado, large amounts of butter, and anything from Burger King. Beyond that, I am pretty much set to consume anything that is put in front of me. I was the kid in 6th grade that earned 100 points for my team because I was the only person brave enough to eat escargot. But while a fatty will eat even some of the craziest things people can consume, they will tell you where you can get some of the best items your stomach is craving. Allow me to paint a picture.

Everybody loves hamburgers. Even my vegetarian friends love a good veggie burger, and await the day when a good bacon substitute is created to go on said burger. Being from California, we have one of the burger joints that the rest of the nation covets, In-N-Out. To this day, when I pick up my family from the airport, our first stop is In-N-Out, because that is the one thing the miss from California . . . I am number two. I love my family, coming in second behind In-N-Out. Look at us Huckaby's and our priorities. Can you blame us? In-N-Out is amazing. Saying you don't like In-N-Out is like saying you don't like George Clooney. That man, much like those burgers, is just delightful.

I believe Tucker Max said it best in his book, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell: "I have only fallen in love three times in my life, and the first bite of that Double-Double was one of those times. The crispy bun complimenting the cool lettuce, the special sauce accentuating the fresh tomato, the sweet meat mixing with the salty cheese, all of it coming together in a harmonious medley of flavor thus far unseen on the American fast food landscape - I was smitten. It was the single greatest fast food meal in the history of civilization. Even though I was full, I immediately ate another Double-Double. I was nearly in tears at this meal, it was so transcendentally excellent. Those fuckers should hire me as a spokesman."

As wonderful as In-N-Out is, they are not known for their variety. If you want some crazy toppings on your burger, you have to venture out to places like Carls Jr or Five Guys. If you don't mind the restaurant atmosphere, Red Robin is always a great choice. But what is the best substitute for the guy who loves In-N-Out but still wants variety? How can one have his burger, and eat it too? (See what I did there? Oh the cleverness of me.)

My friend Troy and I were having this discussion several months ago at a hamburger joint in Palm Springs called Hamburger Mary's. I was enjoying my Buffy the Hamburgerslayer (complete with roasted garlic cloves and Caesar dressing) while Troy was devouring his Blue Cheese Burger. Because Troy is a fellow fatty, especially when it comes to burgers, I asked him if that was the best burger he had ever had. As he set his monstrosity of burger back down on his plate, he shook his head. "This is great. But not the best."

Curious, I asked him what could possibly beat these crazy concotions that Hamburger Mary's provided. That is when he told me about this mystical restaurant called Slaters 50/50. Where burgers are made as huge as your head, and every topping you could think of can be yours. Where the milkshakes are just as good as dairy queen, and the fries are crazy delicious. For ten minutes, he described to me the burger that he created on his first visit to this wonderful place. Truthfully, he had me at fried egg, because I had just been introduced to this new burger craze and was fascinated that there was a place that served them.

And then he said the words I will never forget, "If you love bacon, you will love Slaters." To which my response, "Who doesn't like bacon? Bacon is magical. It can tame any savage beasts hunger." I may have embellished that a little, but its true. Bacon is proof that god exists . . . through food. I will not believe for a second that their wasn't some higher power that created bacon for us to enjoy. No animal crawled out of the primordial soup and evolved into a pig, that just happened to have also evolved into the greatest tasting meat on the planet. I call shenanigans, good sir. You're probably asking yourself, "Did he just prove God's existence with Bacon?" Yeah. I went there. Bacon is also my example of temptation, because it is not a kosher product but how can one stay away when the aroma of cooked bacon is in the air.

For months I was plagued by the ideas of Slaters 50/50. I have had great burgers. I even went to Father's Office in LA whose burger won the gold medal for best burger in Southern California and were featured on Top Chef. Could Slaters 50/50 even hold a candle to that? No way had Troy found this little gem that I had failed to discover.

Last week, my mother in law wanted to go to lunch. When I asked her where she wanted to go, she mentioned she was craving Wendy's because of all the billboards she had seen, advertizing the new Pretzel Bun Bacon Burger. With the mention of a hamburger, I asked her if she would like to try this new "magical" place that Troy had told me about. Bottom line, she was in.

I am going to warn you. I had a food orgasum, or a forgasm, as I like to call them. I was taken somewhere that no hamburger has ever taken me before. Slaters 50/50 did things to me that I would not be comfortable talking about in front of small children. I apologize for all the sexual innuendos that are about to be read. But that's how good this damn thing was.

First off, I could create my own hamburger. While some of you skeptical people are reading this, you are probably saying to yourself, "Pffft. That's not unheard of." The choices for Slaters 50/50 were off the charts. Not only could I choose from 8 different patties, but I could also choose the size. The cheese choices were off the charts, they had brie and smoked Gouda for crying out loud. A handfull of bread choices, including a Bacon Pretzel Bun . . . let that sink in . . . a Pretzel Bun . . . infuesed with bacon. And the toppings, just to name a few: bacon, tomato, pickles, fried pickles, onions, grilled onions, onion rings, grilled red peppers, grilled mushrooms, fried egg, anchovies, pastrami, beer battered jalapenos, peanut butter, jelly, avocado mash, roasted corn and black beans, bacon infuesed gravy, portebello mushrooms, and spam. And if that isn't enough for you, the sauces are out of this world: 1000 Island Dressing, BBQ Sauce, Bacon Island Dressing, Baconnaise, Chipotle Adobo Mayo, Cilantro Lime Sour Cream, Garlic Aioli, Pumpkin Sauce, Slater’s Bacon Ketchup, Sriracha® Mayo, Tapatío® Ranch, and Teriyaki Glaze.

Second, I learned why its called Slaters 50/50. Their signature burger patty is 50% ground beef and 50% bacon. That's right. Half the patty. Bacon. As I was reading this on the menu, I had that moment that you see in cartoons all the time, where the angel appears on one shoulder and the devil appears on the other. The angel said to me, "That thing is going to close like eight of your arteries if you eat it." While the devil shouted, "Who is going to say no to a bacon patty? F those arteries. I got more." Can you guess which patty I ordered?

One bite into that thing made me question why anyone would eat a regular hamburger patty ever again. The juice coming of this thing sent my taste-buds into overdrive. I closed my eyes and savored every bite from that behemoth burger. The more I ate, the more I kept expecting to wake up from some naughty dream. Half way through, I had that moment where your eyes close, your toes curl, and your skin starts to tingle all over. And still had more to eat. This is what multiple orgasms must feel like. I have now found the one thing I envy about women.

After I was done, I new I was going to be in trouble, but every bite of that burger was worth anything that could happen. I left that place knowing I gained probably ten pounds, and I wasn't even upset about it. I sat on the couch for two hours in a food hangover, and had it lasted all day . . . still worth it. That could have been that last burger in my life, and I would have been content. I finally understood what James Cromwell meant at the end of Babe when he said "That'll do pig. That'll do." He was talking about that 50% bacon burger patty I just consumed.

I have been to the edge and back, my friends. I have tasted things that are so amazing that you never forget the first moment you tried them. I have even had food that was so good, you fealt like you had to tip the food itself. But never in all my years on this earth have I experienced something quite like Slaters 50/50.
And you know it's gotta be that good, because now I have to admit to Troy he was right . . . but that burger was totally worth it.