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Heaven. On Earth.

Posted on May 19, 2007 
Filed Under Daily, Gluttony

There are a few things I can consider myself to be definitively good at: Yeah sure I am good at alienating my friends by playing with my scrotum in front of them and sure I am good at getting free sex from young girls suffering from Down Syndrome; but if there’s anything in the world I could consider myself an expert at, it’s got to be Fast Food.

(Also, I lied. I’m not good at getting free sex from young girls suffering from Down Syndrome. In fact, this only happened once when my bestfriend JL’s sister who happens to have Downs, mistakenly wandered into the bathroom while I was taking a poop. The rest, as they say, is history. Also, she cried so I have to give her 200 pesos to shut her up. So yeah, not free. Whatever.)

My adeptness with fastfood is fortified with such academic resilience that in the 5 years I was in college, I was able to come up with a detailed, 50-page white paper which analyzes which combination of McDonald’s food items would give you more bang for your buck.

Now I know that two cheeseburgers at 35 Pesos each trumps a double cheeseburger at 69 Pesos as far as being filling is concerned.

I also know that McDonald’s Katipunan uses Nestea iced tea and they prepare it in dirty plastic buckets where it is invariably spat on and stirred using the dirty hands of a pimply squatter store manager who graduated from NCBA in ‘98.

So, since then, I’ve been pretty much going with my killer two Cheeseburgers, two regular fries, large coke combination for my fastfood fix and I was more or less convinced that this combination is quite possibly the greatest food combination my Asian currency can buy. Until lately when I was introduced to KFC’s glorious Garlic Chicken Steak.

For you people who haven’t tuned in to local television programming for the past month or so, KFC is pitching a product called Garlic Chicken Steak and these steaks, depending on how much you value your health, can be the collective manifestation of how capitalist machinations are exploiting the public, or, in my case, HEAVEN ON FUCKING EARTH.

Why you ask? Well three reasons: 49 Pesos. Sizable chicken fillet smothered in garlic sauce. Coke.

Now I’m admittedly fat and celebrate everything that has to do with my being fat so you’re probably thinking how such a modest amount of food can make a guy like me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, horny.

The answer dear friends, again, lies in combinations. Now the meal itself may not be much but throw in a regular Hotshots, two extra orders of rice, regular coleslaw and upgrade your drink to a large coke and you have something that costs a little over 120 Pesos yet is so fucking filling and so fucking good that one cannot talk about it without stopping to masturbate.

[I need a few minutes here]

[Ok]

This combination is so fucking awesome that sometimes I feel that there’s a catch there somewhere. Like, I dunno, maybe you have to give up your soul or maybe your retarded brother when you order this combo because really, assloads of boneless chicken? Three servings of rice? Coleslaw? Large Coke?  I mean come on people, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.(As I learned back in the summer of ‘84 when I was held captive by a bunch of Canadians and was forced to simultaneously eat, shit, drink and have sex three times a day for a year. Also, after they released me, I spoke Spanish.)

Anyway my first encounter with said combination was earlier at lunch. When the meal was served to me, I actually didn’t think much of it. The garlic chicken fillet itself looks like a mishmash of something that resembles chicken, wood carvings and the piss of somebody who has hepatitis. But since I was so hungry earlier, I didn’t let anything get between me and my food. Not even the fact that I saw one of the minimum wagers in the kitchen scooping rice and putting it on my plate with his bare, mangy hands.

But after I put the first spoonful of garlic chicken steak and rice in my mouth, I realized that my fortitude paid off as THE GARLIC CHICKEN STEAK TASTES LIKE WHAT CLOTHED SEX WITH JESSICA ALBA WOULD TASTE LIKE. IT WAS FUCKING HEAVEN!

In a matter of minutes, I was shimmying, happily mixing the contents of my plate and mashing it with my hands until everything looked like oat meal and eating the fuck away.

I got so into it that my officemates who were eating with me at that time probably felt a sense of envy at how happy I was with my food. Actually, envy or utter disgust. (In retrospect, it’s probably disgust as I had my flaccid penis peeking out of my open zipper while doing all of this.)

So there, don’t expect a lot of updates from me because I intend to devour as much of my killer Garlic Chicken Fillet combination as humanly possible and after the day ends, I’d stagger home so fucking full that I wouldn’t have sufficient willpower to undress myself, pop in my Sarah McLachlan CD and take a shower as I stick two fingers up my butt; let alone, write a blog post.

So Adios fuckers.


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