New Orleans is a beautiful city filled with amazing culture and great food. Oh yes, and drunks. Lots and lots of drunks. And today is Fat Tuesday (government name: Mardi Gras) which has long been a holiday celebrated by party goers looking to infinitely imbibe until they pass out, throw up, or both. Well, Popeyes has decided to up the class factor by revealing a one-day-only item exclusively for Mardi Gras: A beadbox necklace to hold your chicken while pushing through large crowds of belligerent, intoxicated messes.
Whoever said dreams never come true needs to be slapped across the face with a stale burrito. Because Taco Bell Canada has decided to spice up everyone’s life by constructing a billboard that dispenses golden showers of delicious, gooey nacho cheese. I’m sure you’ll all agree with me when I say fuck running for the border! I’m about to make a run for the mountains ‘Eh!
Highly Important Royal Wedding Update: Prince Hot Ginge And Meghan Markle Have Chosen Their Cake Flavor!
Every wedding invitation should provide guests with all the important details, like the date, the time, the address, and more importantly, what kind of cake are they going to serve at the reception. Nowadays all these Pinterest brides and grooms think it’s cute to ditch cake and serve lavender bread pudding in a mason jar. It’s not cute. It’s wrong. If you ain’t going to have cake, you ain’t going to see me. I am not going to suffocate in the too-small ASOS suit I wear to every wedding in order to not eat cake (I’m talking to your hateful ass, Natalie Portman.) So I appreciate that Kensington Palace delivered an important royal wedding update on the only thing that matters: THE CAKE!
Adele’s album 25 Trillion Sold And Counting missed the Grammys nomination eligibility cut-off for 2015, so next year will be its year. Expect the 2017 Grammys to be one long Adele appreciation ceremony where Adele will host, produce, sing in every performance, win every category and the In Memoriam section will be filled with everybody who released an album in 2016 since her sales killed them all. Last night, Adele gave a little preview of next year’s Grammys by performing “All I Ask” and it was an off-key and technical mess.
We’ve all been there. We’ve all ended up in a booth at KFC after our bastard live-in piece dumped us. We’ve all tried to drown our feelings with chicken wings, french fries and that gross tub of lawnmower barf they try to pass as coleslaw. We’ve all woken up in a puddle of our drool and biscuit crumbs on a KFC table and have watched the sun set 7 times as our salty tears fall into a Styrofoam tub full of mashed potatoes. We’ve all kept the bathroom door shut with one foot as we wash the 3-day stank out of our chonies in the sink. It has happened to all of us and it happened to 26-year-old Tan Shen of Chengdu in China.
Guy Fieri, America’s culinary master who looks like a wart hog that was violently attacked by an albino porcupine, opened up one of his gourmet wonderland emporiums in Las Vegas, which is pretty smart, because after you get all the way drunk, you usually want to wrap your mouth hole around deep fried gluten wrapped in deep fried cheese wrapped in deep fried creamed pork rinds and covered with bacon-embedded lard sauce. I think I just described the amuse-bouche at Guy’s Las Vegas restaurant. Guy Fieri’s Vegas Kitchen & Bar opened in April, and just like his Times Square barf house, the critics have fallen in love with all the delicacies on the menu. Everything on the menu will make your heart stop, literally.
The menu of the makers of Lipitor’s favorite restaurant has the usual stuff that’ll make most of your internal organs clock out and quit this bitch. There’s a Mac-N-Cheese Bacon Burger and fondue dippers. But the bright shining star of the menu is the $12 Guy’s Cheesecake Challenge, which is basically half of a cheesecake that’s been attacked by fudge, pretzels and potato chips. It looks like some kind of mess that a 4-year-old would make, which is pretty impressive since Guy usually has the culinary skills of a 2-year-old. He’s truly growing as a culinary artist.
Instead of sitting flat — commonsense, quotidian, even jejune — the cheesecake is set on its edge like a wheel, so it presents itself as a sort of runaway half of a dirty and broken Thundarr the Barbarian moon that’s been ripped out of orbit by cosmic forces beyond our reckoning. And, by now calorie-drunk, swooning with surfeit, I imagined Guy Fieri straddling that ragged crescent cake-moon like a motorcycle, riding into a cold and inscrutable universe, crying for an answer, a connection, somebody, anybody, with his painted flames and chocolate-sauced potato chips, his pepperoni armor and outsized burgers: Is anybody out there? I’ve got cheesecaaaaake!
Why did Andrew give me that visual? Just when my tongue was starting to get moist over something that looks like Mama June’s colon, he just had to make me picture Guy getting his crotch sweat all over it while riding it. And I bet Guy’s crotch sweat IS fudge.
But even though that disgusting thing would stop me from shitting for weeks, I still would. I’d hit it. I’d eat it ugly, which is saying a lot since it’s already damn ugly.
Pic: Vital Vegas