Glamburger: Adele, Rolling in the deep edition

Went to a Dixieland Jazz festival yesterday, which is great because I’m always getting my Dixieland on, can’t hardly stop me, and there was so much rad bad-for-you food.

Adele.

Luckily once you stepped through the food area’s gates you discovered that a simple grilled fair-fare meal with accompanying potato product was as expensive as a down payment on a car. Why is stuff like that always a racket, at every single booth? It feels like it was less of one even as recently as a decade ago. Am I crazy? Anyway, I stuck with a chicken kebab and a lemonade. Healthy choices: This Guy!

… Plus like I said, so expensive that I suspected Rumpelstiltskin was behind the Sun Chips prices. Folklore. Don’t need that. Full disclosure: I ended up dropping most of my allotted money on records later, but I remain confident in my budgeting. Food — in your stomach for a couple hours, tops. Records — years in your ears. Keep sharp and make good decisions.

Glamburger: Inaugural edition with explanation

Empty caloric cravings as social equalizer. Enjoyed by pigs and Pigs alike.

via.

So I’m ’bout to get real here with saying a big “fuck you” to my need for Western Bacon cheeseburgers and their ilk. I’m going to try to just cut out fast food and bad shit altogether because this crazy-great frame of mind I’m in has me thinking I can scale mountains and crush ice and drop ‘stones’ of weight in time for the July-August bikini zenith like I’m the impossible space-time-blip lovechild of Braveheart and that bitch from Biggest Loser, and I have invented the new category I call Glamburger as both a biting commentary on the image of “burger” in the visual parole of post-modern pop culture, and as a way to make me sit and cry at the keyboard while gnawing my own fist.

Also retconned in an old entry.

Now, don’t panic. This is not turning in to a food journal. I hate that crap. I don’t need any ass-crazy “I’m so fat” “No you’re not” ED thinspiration folklore to get my internet rocks off: I just like cheesey shuck-and-jive pictures that encourage obesity in the name of capitalism. And … I like bacon and cheeseburgers. (hangs head.)

Breaking news

This just in: Western Bacon Cheeseburgers are amazing.

A confession. I crave these regularly. I will go in jags of several weeks, up to a month even, thinking about how much I’d like one of these, and doing nothing to satisfy myself. But today I went for it. Totally worth it. Alert the media.

I swung by Panda Eraser’s beauty school because it was literally on the way home and left her a note on her car referencing the fact that someone asked her the other day, “How do you make purple?” Love you, you beautiful genius!

I call this picture Glamburger, but Phil Poynter probably has some other name for it.

Normally, I’d be bitching right now about how I totally broke down on my own usually iron will, (only foodwise) and I’m letting my body down, and I know fast food is poison, and I don’t believe in frankenfood and obesity rates and cancer and on and on but … I’m in some type of barbeque sauce-induced emotional coma and instead I’m going to go finger paint with my kidlet.

I’m high on food, y’all.