At exactly 11:48 last night I walked by the sinister siren's call
The bane of my cholesterol count
That grill-fat oiled writhing temptress
That heart-clogging hussy from hell
That destroyer of men and Gods...
The beast known as White Castle.
Now I know you all may have been hearing about my various health disorders now but they were all pretty much tied into the following: I smoke, I don't work out, I'm a stress monkey and I drank too much but beyond all that I admit that I love shitty food - the greasier, cheesier and fattier the better. I was living on a diet of fast food and Gatorade at one point last summer thinking in my insanity - well Gatorade is kind of good for me - it must be because athletes drink it. Eating healthy meant getting beer battered chicken and waffles at a nice restaurant rather than at Kennedy Fried. I used to butter my steaks. During this time, I swear I could drink gravy like it was a milk shake and make bacon grease soaked toast as an appetizer and I'm really exaggerating only slightly. There were witnesses - it was ugly.
Above and beyond all the bodega food, the Mickey D's, the Nathan's, the Papa John's, the 7-11 microwave burritos - over the pork rinds, Cheese Doodles, Hot Fries and Corn Nuts, mightier than the Slim Jims, grilled Spam sandwiches, and Salisbury Steak TV dinners, the one thing I could never say no to, the one thing that if it was in my path drew me to it like a runny-eyed, sniffling junkie on a kick to a pure bag of Persian was the fake cartoon fortress at 781 Metropolitan Ave. in Williamsburg, Brooklyn known as mother-fucking White Castle or Chateau Blanc as some of my crap-food cohorts liked to call it.
Turned out last summer I used to have to walk by there on my way to or home from work. It all started innocent enough. I'd go once, maybe twice a week, but it spiraled beyond my ability to make rational decisions rapidly, to where I couldn't walk by without walking in. Oh I tried to resist - I tried but then they just had to come out with the Double Jalapeno Cheese Burger! And the sickest part is, as you all know, there is NO POINT in having just ONE White Castle burger (this also applies to their chicken and fish menu items) ever. You leave with a sack of at LEAST 4 or that party box aberration if you're with friends and your order usually includes items like onion rings, fries, a cola and/or a side of cheese sauce. As I write this, a fathomless pit is developing in my gut and my mouth is watering, and the aspect of a frozen veggie burger on a whole wheat roll brings no relief to this tortured soul's misery. But know this brothers and sisters...
THE REV. RESISTED! Hallelujah brothers and sisters I do testify - I TESTIFY that there was no blue and white paper sack in my hand last night, leaking grease onto my jeans. The Rev. did NOT re-taste his dinner this morning, when once the furnaces of my gastro-intestinal system would have reminded me and all within smelling distance what my prior night's sins were. The Rev. did NOT have to expel the demons on the throne of woe this morning for that smiling, steamed onion smelling succubus did NOT have her way with me! My fingers are not slick with the juices of deep fried sides or extra bacon and no corn syrup sweetened soft drink touched these lips of mine I say thee unto you my brethren! And as tormented and torn as I felt last night inhaling the heavenly waft White Castle blew upwind - I sit here today and say - I am the Rev. Spyro and I did not fall!
OK - now it's time to nuke the Morning Star Garden Patties!
A - Men