Wednesday, February 18, 2009

King of Love

Valentine’s Day was vastly intensified this year, spent noshing at the always dependable Burger King for a fraction of the cost you hemorrhaged on inferior prix fixe and overpriced, wilted roses. And please, save your disdain for the sad sack coming off a three hour S&M session in a prostitute-friendly Econo Lodge, imagining he’s found true love in the delight of a $10 happy ending. I’m secure enough in this marriage. I don’t need the suits at Hallmark dictating agendas for flaunting my sly wit and devastating charm. Not to mention prescribing forced passion via my declining net worth. Besides, the King’s added some novel offerings since radically changing the fry recipe eleven years earlier; steadily rotating mushrooms, Swiss cheese, and pepper jack through the daily menu, themselves ingredients of haute cuisine for the cache of bearded veterans dining contently in neighboring booths.

While you were rooting through edible underwear, navigating the trails of chocolate massage oil, or enduring the hellacious pain of dripped hot wax from your masochistic bitch of a wife, I was tucking into the “Angry Whopper,” cheerful as a schoolboy at recess. Despite the lack of piquant astonishment, I do applaud the inclusion of jalapenos, a ballsy move from a restaurant aimed at serving the masses, not scaring the taste-buds off the God-fearing lower-middle class. And in case you were wondering, my wife – reigning Burger Queen ‘till death do us part – equally enjoyed her double cheeseburger value meal, replete with frypod and medium Coke. No flowery bouquet necessary, although we did renew our vows over a sack of Otis Spunkmeyer cookies. Unlike its golden arched rival, the taste of flame-broiled beef glistening between a sesame roll, coupled with the excitement of having it my way, really deepens the animal attraction toward my meat eating better half. And if Cupid’s arrow can pierce my heart in this fluorescent bat cave of bolted seats, why would I ever pay for underwhelming foie gras at the conceited bistro down the street. I like my thrills cheap, with or without the cheese.

Burger King = Valentine’s Day
Romantic = Valentine’s Day

Burger King = Romantic


Colnago said...

Are you still in Australia now?

MVD said...

My good man, I have yet to experience the pleasure of a walkabout amongst the Aboriginals, much less the thrill of flushing a toilet in the Southern Hemisphere. This is a US-based blog with a healthy smattering of fans Down Under. Welcome aboard. Spread the bastardly cheer to your kinfolk.

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