Chicago, IL-After being spiritually and physically demolished by a neglectful, bordering on oddly resentful, wait staff, a heaving tray of unmistakably raw chicken wings and a sex on the beach garnished with a sexy fist sized chunk of dander, one brave Midwestern couple decided to draw a line in the sand.
“I told my wife, look we’ll suffer in silence here for another two hours, consume the raw wings (bones included), drink the pube forward cocktail, and when they come over to ask if everything is alright we’ll smile and nod like two sniveling pissants, that could be considered revenge in itself, but there’s a storm brewing too!” said Michael Violi raising his head barely out of the toilet bowl from which he had been puking in the past two days.
The storm he referred to was a staggering 3% knocked off of an already generous tip. The unbridled and awe-inspiring power of true Midwestern scorn. An act of such incredible defiance by a Midwesterner that he could be reincarnated as a glory hole in a northern Indiana Cracker Barrel bathroom.
A lesson to all that as a Midwesterner, we will never cause a scene, never draw attention even in the most excruciating scenario and suffer in consuming silence, but in some cases will only leave a tip that is only slightly above what is considered an adequate tip amount.
Editors note: a representative from Butcher Box reached out to me directly and explained that the extra shipping time was because of the 4th of July, I just got another box, completely frozen. I will be assembling the meat into one giant log and consuming it with a pint of Red Stag, Kid Rock’s cherry flavored whiskey.
Butcher Box is advertised as a local butcher’s hand selected meats shipped conveniently to your door, which would absolutely be true if the local butcher’s shop kept their meat in a deflating baby pool of old bath water behind an abandoned Cracker Barrel and the butcher himself was a Ted Nugent impersonator fucked out of his mind on acid who seemed indifferent as to whether or not you lived or died.
In some ways I would have preferred that to my experience, at least an Instagram with the right filter applied, playing in a pool of festering meat would have garnered a modest amount of likes from fellow beef enthusiasts. The prospect of dying at the hands of a fully nude Ted Nugent impersonator would make a hell of obituary as well.
Instead I waited an inexplicable three weeks to receive a box of sustainably sourced, barely cooled meat which I responsibly and soul crushingly tossed in the trash can. Farm to dumpster. A pasture in the heart of the Pacific Northwest trash vortex. An iconic celebration of goddamn waste. The chicken could have been used in a super soaker at a summer cookout.
The type of waste that is truly heartbreaking.
It was certainly an honor to flippantly throw away an entire box of animals and I’m sure they were just as grateful to give their lives for the sake of burdening someone with immediately discarding their corpses. I got a refund which is a plus, but goddamnit this is a Mickey Mouse operation.
Chicago, IL-The founders of the Pink Taco have done it again. Created a restaurant concept based exclusively off of a nickname for genitalia given by a guy who once gave Dane Cook a high five at a Fuddruckers in rural Illinois. Beige Log is set to open next month and will be located adjacent to Pink Taco, giving this city the food based sexual innuendo it needed to legitimize itself in the restaurant world.
Much like Pink Taco, Beige Log will serve up unmemorable food to the hordes of Chicago residents with no discernible personality, interests, or ability to recognize themselves as fucking losers.
The restaurant will be khaki forward, in the sense that everything served there must be of taupe origin and must be brutally minced into a grotesque log by the executive chef which happens to be a Bobby Flay sex doll. The first sex doll executive chef in history. We have progress people!
The flesh colored logs come in all sizes, each as boring and tasteless as the person consuming it. Slather up your whistle with a few $9 Michelob Ultras before making a boomerang of yourself suffering down the restaurant’s signature dish “The Dog Log.” And be sure to ask for extra knee caps!
This restaurant proves that no gender should be left out in choosing a horrific restaurant name, though it will still likely have a racially charged dress code. Because if you’re not wearing a pair of crotchless Lululemons, you certainly don’t have the social status to eat at the truly divine Beige Log.
Chicago, IL-In an effort to monopolize the niche market of obligatory, thoughtless gifts that no one really wants and are ultimately a burden for all involved, Edible Arrangements has expanded their line to go beyond just soggy, heart shaped cantaloupe chunks.
A deluxe line of arrangements has just launched for that mildly special someone that qualifies as slightly more important than a basket full of browning apples glued into the shape of Danielle Bregoli’s face. The Incredible Edible Ground Round Nibbler is the perfect gift for that person in your life that may or may not be a fan of 60/40 blend ground beef.
Not only is the basket stuffed to the absolute brim with cooked and uncooked ground beef hunks that are crudely fashioned into varying benign shapes that a marketing team spent countless hours arguing over, the entire basket itself is woven from ground beef and slathered in Worcestershire sauce.
Imagine the look on someone’s face when a sagging plastic bag full of ground beef and loose marinade is placed in a precarious place on their desk. The prospect of a beef themed sack threatening to explode and contaminate everything the person owns is a true display of affection.
So buy the Incredible Edible Ground Round Nibbler for someone you’re indifferent about today!
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina-After decades of painstakingly seeking the cradle of Mexican inspired American-tourist forward cuisine, Celebrity Chef Rick Bayless has finally unearthed the mossy keystone from which everything was born. Following several days of grueling travel to reach a remote fishing village known as “Myrtle Beach,” Bayless set forth to uncover the mysteries that had lay dormant in the city’s underbelly since the beginning of time.
In particular, a quaint beachside bungalow known by locals as Señor Frog’s became an object of fascination for Bayless. Señor Frog was originally a name given to a beloved goat who regularly graced the bar that kind of looked like a frog if you were drunk enough, he was immortalized in the bar name after being decapitated in a gruesome Jet Ski accident.
Bayless spent countless nights there, submerging himself to the point of madness, as wet t-shirt contests were held, lava lamps were butt chugged and free beer koozies were given to people who agreed to be kicked in the nuts by Dog the Bounty Hunter impersonator. This was culture. This was heaven.
“Farm to table nitrous balloons, hand crafted Red Bull Vodkas rimmed with organic Stacker 2 energy pills, 60/40 ground chuck blend shaped into a fist, and a VR gravity bong experience, will all be available at my new restaurant Donkey Dick’s Bar & Grill,” said Bayless furiously scribing pre-emptive Trip Advisor reviews.
The bar will cater to people who want to appear interesting and adventurous but are actually quite dull. Wading through a cultureless abyss of Michelob Ultra buckets and acid fueled three legged races.
Chicago, IL-A relaxing barbeque amongst friends transformed into a knock-down-drag-out drinking extravaganza in record time over the weekend. Like all Chicago barbeques, food was meticulously curated and friends and spouses alike agreed it would be the perfect opportunity to enjoy some good food, good company and perhaps even a beer or glass of wine before retreating home to watch a movie and get an adequate amount of rest before the impending work week.
As the day progressed, and one beer turned into a handle of Rumplemintz with a carton of American Spirits to boot, it became apparent that food had lost relevancy. The early start of the BBQ, originally functioning as an early curfew safeguard, ended up merely piling on additional hours of frenzied drinking.
Prospective burdens of the week melted with the ice in the cooler, and a feeling of regal invincibility settled in as wine glasses swelled like the livers they poured on. Monday would never come, or if it did it would surely be someone else’s problem. The impending hangover would serve as a lesson to employers, a reminder that wrestling with Monday hangovers are as much a part of the weekend as Sunday drinking.
As the barbeque concluded, the guest’s divinity receded with each glass of water, each minute of restless sleep, and they became fully aware that Wednesday would be the next time they felt human.
Chicago, IL-Bottled Blonde in River North is embracing the backlash experienced after the bar’s questionable dress code was leaked like a steady flow of asparagus piss down a pair of pleated khakis. The dress code, which banned things like Jordan brand shoes, sagging pants, bright clothing and other discriminatory items, has been celebrated by management, as they begin a transition to the new bar, owned by Last Man Standing’s Tim Allen, known as Blondes & Bigots Bar & Grill.
“A bigot is a type of super elegant French pastry,” said bar general manager Chase Wiley installing a new confederate flag glory hole in the bathroom. “The & is self explanatory, any restaurant worth a damn has a & in the name, but while we wanted to stay extremely classy, we also wanted to relive the glory days of segregation and give people hope that some day the South could rise again,” continued Wiley hanging a massive signed picture of Michael Richards.
Blondes & Bigots Bar & Grill is being pitched as a cozy speak easy where racists can gather without fear of judgement. With a cocktail program that includes something called David Duke On the Beach and more traditional horrible drinks like Vodka Mudslides, the restaurant and its piece of shit owners should go belly up in less than 24 hours, to be mercifully replaced by another Rainforest Cafe.
Bubba Gump’s Shrimp-Nestled into one of the more secluded and unknown parts of the city, in a quaint part of town known adoringly by locals as Navy Pier; Bubba Gump Shrimp will submerge you in the scenic waters of Lake Michigan. Unfortunately Bubba Gump’s is only for the most hardcore of seafood snobs, offering up unorthodox interpretations on shrimp like popcorn shrimp and coconut shrimp (both styles uniquely Chicago) and a variety of intriguing pairings for the seafood like Moscato and Samuel Adams Boston Lager. The perfect romantic place for an anniversary or to show off the diverse offerings of a big city to an out of towner. Bubba Gump’s Shrimp will bring any seafood gourmand to their knees and have them begging Poseidon for one more piece of buttery flaccid shrimp!
Margaritaville-Adjacent to Bubba Gump’s Shrimp is a charming beachside bungalow called Margaritaville. The perfect place to take a load off and enjoy a few $9 domestic beers. Nothing will melt your cares away faster than listening to, local favorite, Jimmy Buffet’s Cheeseburgers in Paradise on repeat for the entire duration of your meal. It’s the absolute perfect escape from big city living, a little slice of trendy 1940’s Tiki culture right in your own backyard. People will be amazed at the authenticity of the décor and the cocktail program that only uses artisan flavored silver rums like Parrot Bay. No shirt, no shoes, no problem…it’ll be our little secret.
Rainforest Café-Perhaps the most discreet restaurant in Chicago, there is no way for anyone (except veteran Chicagoans) to tell that what lies inside is a gorgeously exotic rainforest themed bar & grill. The ingenuity behind a hyper real amazon experience is unrivaled. The misters will turn any entrée into an elegant soup, and at points the dark, hot, cramped space can make you as delirious as a Malaria induced fever. The smell of dirty diapers is a true bonus and the souvenir shop is ripe with treasures that will be conversation starters for decades. Do you have what it takes to survive in such a new and unusual neighborhood spot?
ESPN Zone Chicago (CLOSED TO PUBLIC, BUT AVAILABLE THROUGH A SECRET HOBBIT DOOR LOCATED IN THE BASEMENT OF EATALY)-Anything with Chicago in the name will clearly be the life force of the city, and ESPN Zone Chicago is no exception. A family run post-futurist restaurant with plenty of eye candy found in the thousands of inescapable plasma screen televisions. Nothing like supporting the local economy with this mom and pop run restaurant. They provide a modern twist on old classics like deep frying chicken tenderloins and deep frying mozzarella cheese. What could be more modern and edgy than having 0 interactions with the person you’re out with? Have a mixologist craft you up a toothsome whiskey and coke to go with staring lifelessly into a monitor, what better way to enjoy the sights and sounds of a big city?!
Reports documenting how lunch meat is made have ruined the cold cut buffet culture at strip clubs. Videos showing how Gummy Bears are made transformed an adorable candy into a tiny bear shaped sack full of crushed animal skin and bones. And now the shredded raccoon carcass caked on the side of the highway, which serves as a great low carb snack on road trips, may have a similarly perverse origin.
Raccoon meat is known by most as the filet mignon of vermin. A tender, delicate meat, best enjoyed fur-on, medium rare with a glass of earthy Sutter Home. Which is why the yearning for that old familiar taste is so consuming as you pass the crumbling corpse on the side of the road.
What most people don’t realize is that the tire treads and collapsed skull, assumed by many to signify a peaceful passing by natural causes, are anything but. In over 50% of cases these can signify contact with a moving vehicle, which can contain bacteria that most humans are intolerant to! Can anyone say upset tummy?!
And that sweet taste of highway medium raccoon flesh, almost bordering on acrid, that lures you back time and time again like a sirens song is actually the meat spoiling further between every chew. If you catch it even a day too late, it can cause severe nausea! Yuck! Who would have thought?
Knowing that the raccoon filet swarming with flies in the hot sun could have possibly been struck by a car AND might be rotting is a total bummer…but NOW YOU KNOW!
Little Chute, Wisconsin-Jack’s Pizza has been making moderately edible pizza for over sixty years. A flimsy mechanism for delivering your daily recommended dosage of Hidden Valley. With toppings that whimsically drift inches above the pie itself and vacate onto your chin with even the tiniest nibble. Shedding the scolding hot cheese and pepperoni like a snake molting in the middle of June.
There’s really only one way to eat Jack’s pizza and it involves coming home out of your mind on well-whiskey and whippets, turning the oven to 600 degrees, neglecting the preheating process entirely, and hastily throwing the pizza in the oven with the cardboard still planted steadfastly beneath it. Though as the whiskey eases your brain into a slow rolling Jacuzzi of ether and the siren song of the couch grows ever more persuasive, the likelihood of you actually waking up to retrieve the pizza out of the oven decreases dramatically.
That’s why Jack’s Pizza has partnered with Fireball Whiskey to create the Jack’s Fight Fire with Fire Party Box: Sometimes the Only Way to Put Out a Fire is to Start a FireTM. The box comes with a flame retardant pizza, a parliament cigarette the size of a breadstick and a signature Fireball marinara that will torch your ring piece but NOT your house.
You’ll wake up the next morning filled with delight, knowing that you haven’t been engulfed in a fiery tomb and can now eat an uncooked pizza smothered in Fireball whiskey. Let the Jack’s Fight Fire with Fire Party Box ignite the fire in your soul.