There’s only 40 more days until Christmas. None of the following will make a decent Christmas present, unless you don’t like the person you’re giving them to.

It began with 5-Hour Energy. Now it’s six hours of energy? You know what gives me 16-18 hours of energy? Sleep and hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock five times. (via Energy Drink Ratings)

The Limited Edition Candy Cane Oreo with help prepare my palate for all the candy canes I’ll receive/shoplift/steal from shopping mall Santas/bully away from school children this holiday season. (via Gigi Reviews)

My face burns red with shame because the Japanese can only fit three berries into a Kit Kat bar. Japanese ingenuity has died. (via Japanese Snack Reviews)

I promise I’m not linking to this video review of the Skyline Chili and Spaghetti frozen meal because the reviewer is a fellow Asian. I’m linking to it because I miss Heat Eat Review. (via Freezer Burns)

Pfff…A hand renewal dishwashing liquid? Nothing is sexier than rough hands and fingers stroking my back and making me imagine I’m caressing Bea Arthur. (via Cheaplander)

The Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito is meant for the daring. It’s made for women who are willing to dance with the guy in the corner wearing sunglasses at night, with two popped collars, and clubgoers always form a large circle around him, not because he needs space to break out his dance moves, but because he has poor personal hygiene. It’s made for men who have the huge brass cojones to write a heart-warming sonnet that uses the Shakespearean rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG to proclaim their love for combing the manes of their My Little Ponies. It’s made for the small dogs who go up to significantly bigger dogs and bark the words, “You are my bitch.”

This breakfast burrito is only meant for the audacious diner because its ingredients list makes the KFC Famous Bowl seem a little less famous, like going from Alec Baldwin to Daniel Baldwin, and its nutritional values would make a doctor’s heart skip a beat. The cavalcade of ingredients not only consists of the trifecta of pig products — sausage, ham, and bacon — it also has scrambled eggs, hash brown nuggets, shredded jack cheese, shredded cheddar cheese, and white sausage gravy in a flour tortilla. It’s like they took George Orwell’s Animal Farm, wrapped it in tortilla, and scraped out the equines and communism.

With all of those ingredients, I was thinking some would overwhelm others, like normal people being stuffed in a room with Robin Williams clones, and it turns out that I was correct. All I could taste was the egg, tortilla, ham, and sausage gravy, although the white gravy was a little weak, making biscuits everywhere cry a little. I was hoping there would be a strong sausage and bacon flavor, but I guess ham is the Highlander and there can only be one in this breakfast burrito. The hash browns were soggy to the point where its texture was as soft as the eggs, so it didn’t add any crunch to it. Perhaps if I ate it in the restaurant instead of eating it ten minutes later in the comfort of my love shack, the hash brown would’ve still been crunchy. Despite not being able to taste all of the ingredients, it was decent as a ham and egg burrito, plus it had a nice heft to it, but I probably wouldn’t order it again.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 burrito - 770 calories, 47 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 495 milligrams of cholesterol, 1530 milligrams of sodium, 57 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, 6 grams of dietary fiber, and 31 grams of protein.)

Item: Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito
Price: FREE (with coupon from PR peeps)
Size: 308 grams
Purchased at: Carls’ Jr.
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Meant for the daring eater. Decent tasting as a ham and egg burrito, since that most of what I could taste.. High in protein. Six grams of dietary fiber. George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
Cons: Couldn’t taste sausage and bacon. Sausage gravy was a little weak. Hash brown were soggy. High in sodium and saturated fat. Being in a room filled with Robin Williams clones.

Don’t get me wrong. I may be a passive pacifist, but I’m not one of those beatniks who believe that everything can be solved without violence. Somebody has to be the bully or the badass with the poo on the stick once in awhile, but Jack Bauer’s chewing Doublemint gum right now, so he’s a bit too busy to kick ass, and Chuck Norris is retired from Delta Force…which is why we have military forces to take their place, armed with state-of-the-art weapons and MREs (Meals Ready to Eat).

Cheese Omelet with Vegetables Power Performance MRE is fairly low in calories and quite nutritious for something its size, but that comes with a caveat. It’s got the longest list of ingredients for an omelet I’ve ever seen. Here’s a quick rundown of what it contains (which is only a wee fraction of the entire list): liquid eggs, cottage cheese, green chilies, mozzarella, water, cream, modified starch, and about seven or eight preservatives. It’s just like dear old grandma’s secret recipe for a prize-winning omelet (incidentally, I’m still waiting for her to pass on her coveted buck cake recipe)! It’s supposedly designed to last for at least 14 years, which explains the caveat, I guess. It’s also packed so full of cholesterol that the plaque-y goodness must aid the preservation process.

I tore open this bag to find myself utterly devoid of patriotism. I knew that MREs had a bad reputation, but this was completely uncalled for. It belongs on a stick…a very long stick. It tastes like crap and quite frankly it reminds me of really terrible and rancid coffee, which dominates the palate, both on and off the tongue. The texture is basically what you’d expect; extra congealed and crumbly, with the dryness of extra hard boiled egg yolks despite an eerie moistness, which is the only thing remotely egg-y about this thing. The veggies were a lost cause as well, since their flavors were completely dominated and their texture was soggier than wet toilet paper. It smelled like really bad tin can food.

I tried to play with it and build little mounds of crap for my green soldiers to march over, but my wee plastic commandos mutinied and started an underground bordello for G.I. Joes and Mr. Potato Heads. This thing is completely irredeemable and worthless like Switzerland’s military might. It’s a giant fuck you to our soldiers, who deserve better like laser ray guns that go pew pew or robot butlers/maids.

At least it comes with a sah-weet brown spoon. Let me tell you, this spoon is truly badass compared to all the other wimpy plastic spoons out there. It’s frickin’ Schwarzenegger from Commando or Terminator 2. This spoon is bigger, stronger, thicker, and heavier than your average plastic spoon. It’s brown so you can eat this crap without breaking your camouflage cover, if the smell didn’t give you away first. It’s also strong enough that it can be used as a weapon of minor destruction if one finds themselves without anything else after killing too many sissy minions. Now that’s American justice: death by plastic spoon. Too bad it’s not a spork.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 mysterious package - 300 calories, 16 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 530 milligrams of cholesterol, 680 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, 1 grams of dietary fiber, 6 grams of sugar, and 23 grams of protein.)

Item: MRE - Cheese Omelet with Vegetables

Price: $4.45
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 0 out of 10 (8/10 for the badass spoon)
Pros: Nutritious. Shelf-stable. Badass brown spoon. Grandma’s buck cake recipe. Bordellos. A badass with poo on a stick. Death by spoon.
Cons: Rancid coffee-taste. Terrible tin can food smell. Crumbly texture. Long list of ingredients. A number of preservatives. Jack Bauer chewing gum. Plaque-y goodness of cholesterol. No badass spork.

The idea of fruit rolls-ups seems like something that was the result of a pleasant accident, like the Slinky, Post-It Notes, and possibly your youngest sibling, unless you’re the youngest child, in which case, you were planned. Someone apparently came up with a way to smash fruit better than a Sledge-O-Matic that also doesn’t get the first few rows of a theater covered with the carnage of fruit. If fruit roll-ups were an accident conceived in a laboratory, kitchen, or back seat of a Pontiac Firebird, I’m glad it happened because it led to the Strawberry FruitaBü Organic Smoooshed Fruit Rolls.

Although targeted towards children and people who love umlauts, I could see myself eating these in order to get the one serving of fruit they provide because according to nutritionists I don’t consume the daily recommended amount of fruit, unless a bag of Skittles or a 24-ounce Strawberry Slurpee counts as a serving. The FruitaBü is certified USDA Organic, which I would explain, but I would probably bore you with jargon like, “compliance,” “regulations,” “exceptions,” and “booteeshockee.” Basically, the Strawberry FruitaBü Organic Smoooshed Fruit Rolls is an organic and significantly much shorter version of General Mills’ Fruit by the Foot. While Fruit by the Foot provides “3 feet of fun,” the FruitaBü Fruit Rolls only offers “19.5 inches of interestingness.”

However, the ingredients in those “19.5 inches of interestingness” includes mostly of an inventory of organic apple, white grape, and strawberry concentrates and purees that provides all the sugar in each roll, while the “3 feet of fun” includes extra sweeteners, like sugar and corn syrup. Despite not having any extra added sugar, the FruitaBü was sweet, like sending a card to your grandma-sweet, but not overly sweet, like sending a strippergram to your grandma-sweet. Overall, I thought the Strawberry FruitaBü Organic Smoooshed Fruit Rolls were really good, although because of the orgy of different organic fruits, I thought the strawberry didn’t really stand out and if I were given one without any labeling I probably wouldn’t be able to tell what flavor it was. However, if your child, fruit deficient adult friend, or diacritic fanboy wants a fun way to get a serving of fruit, I would recommend the FruitaBü.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 roll - 80 calories, 1.5 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 100 milligrams of potassium, 16 grams of carbs, less than 1 gram of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 0% Vitamin A, 10% Vitamin C, 0% Calcium, 0% Iron, and 1 poem on the box.)

Item: Strawberry FruitaBü Organic Smoooshed Fruit Rolls
Price: FREE (retails for $3.69)
Size: 6 pack
Purchased at: Given by nice PR people
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tastes really good. Made from real fruit. One serving of fruit per roll. USDA Organic. No added sugar. Cute monkeys on the box that looks like were done in Adobe Illustrator.
Cons: Strawberry flavor doesn’t really stand out. Roll is not very long, only 19.5 inches of interestingness. Paper it is rolled up with is not edible. Might be difficult to find. Being conceived in the back of a Pontiac Firebird. Booteeshockee.

I guess what they say about Asians is true — most Asian dishes look alike. I swear the Panda Express Thai Cashew Chicken looks like their Kung Pao Chicken, String Bean Chicken, and Mushroom Chicken. Maybe that’s the reason why when I was picking up dinner this past weekend at Panda Express I wasn’t surprised by its sudden appearance because I thought it was something else. The Thai Cashew Chicken consists of cashews, white meat chicken, red bell peppers, some green vegetable, and cilantro. A 5.5-ounce serving has 240 calories, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 640 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of protein, and 0 grams of surprises. According to the Panda Express website, it will be around until December 30th, but when it does disappear, I don’t think anyone will notice.

Do you enjoy words? Then you will enjoy sentences, and if you like sentences, then you’ll love paragraphs. If you love paragraphs, then you’ll like these reviews from other review blogs.

I was disappointed to find out that the Taco Rack was not what I hoped it to be — a delicious way to position the balls for a game of pool. Ha! You probably thought I was going to make a boobies joke. Instead I’ll let you folks do that in the comments. (via Phoood)

The director of the classic Deep Throat passes away and we honor his work with an energy drink? Well I guess it does make sense since we do swallow the energy drink. (via Possessed by Caffeine)

Yay! Egg nog! I’m pretty sure the reason for my yearly weight gain during the holiday season is caused by the gallons of egg nog I drink and not the turkey. Since it’s only around for a couple of months, I need to drink as much of it as I can. (via Gigi Reviews)

I guess my theory that Mello Yello and Mountain Dew are the same thing because I never see them at the same place and at the same time is wrong. Unless, the photo has been Photoshopped to trick me. (via Second Rate Snacks)

I find it to be weird eating a candy bar that looks like it needs a condom wrapped around it to prevent whatever those bumps are from spreading. (via Candy Blog)

The Primo Meatball sub from Quiznos may consist of seasoned meatballs, zesty marinara sauce, and mozzarella cheese, but the one thing it probably doesn’t have is the ability to make Italian mothers everywhere cry. With 1000 calories, 45 grams of fat, and 2,950 milligrams of sodium in the large version of this sandwich, the only thing it can make Italian mothers do is feel extremely sluggish after eating it and have the desire to take a nap. Fortunately, Quiznos offers smaller versions of the sandwich, like they do with all of their sandwiches. I’m personally not much of a meatball sandwich kind of guy, because I’ve ruined in way too many white shirts while eating spaghetti and meatballs. But if you’re not afraid to ruin a shirt and want to eat something hearty, this Primo Meatball sub might be for you.

If you have children, whatever you do, DO NOT buy them the High School Musical Cereal. Some of you might be thinking I don’t like this packaged Kellogg’s and Disney collaboration because it promotes the third movie in the High School Musical trilogy, which by the way makes me cringe more than Star Wars prequel trilogy, but people should avoid this cereal because it just isn’t any good. If this cereal actually jiggled my jollies, I’d be breaking out into an unnecessary song and dance number while eating it. Fortunately for my overworked jazz hands, the cereal just flat out sucks, which boggles my mind since the recipe for a good sugary cereal is simple: pick shapes, pick colors, and add a fucking lot of sugar (marshmallow are optional). It’s like the person who developed this bland cereal forgot the very important step of putting a shitload of sugar in it, which is the equivalent of taking a piss without doing the necessary step of pulling down your pants or lifting up your skirt. The orangy and red star-shaped cereal pieces even have white specks all over them, which I thought was sugar, but didn’t make it sugary, so I’ll just assume the cereal has dry scalp and a bad case of dandruff. Shouldn’t the cereal that promotes a sugary sweet Disney movie be just as annoyingly sweet? Maybe I’m asking for too much, but I did ask for a nude picture of Vanessa Hudgens to end up on the internet and eventually one was posted, so why can’t I get a cereal with enough sugar to help me keep up with retiree mall walkers in the morning?

Buying this cereal is not only a bad idea because eating it feels like there’s a boring discussion of 18th century European economics going on in your mouth, it’s also a possible gateway item for much worse things your kid would want you to purchase. If you give into this, then they’ll next be asking for the High School Musical 3 soundtrack; then a DVD of the movie when it comes out four months later; and then they’ll be asking you to record the previous High School Musical movies playing on the Disney Channel on your TiVo, forcing you to delete the episodes of Heroes you haven’t gotten to yet because you’re too busy accommodating every whim from your demanding Disney-loving child, who ironically was conceived in a room at a Disney World Resort during some kinky Mickey and Minnie Mouse role playing. Before you know it, your kid is screaming at you because you ruined their sweet sixteen party that you allowed to be recorded for a reality show, because you bought them a Mercedes-Benz instead of a teal flying unicorn that does their homework and poops ancient Aztec gold, making you look like the worst parent in the world.

Although you could buy this for your child, they say “thank you,” and follow that up with a warm hug that melts your heart and makes you feel like the greatest parent in the world.

If you do decide to buy the cereal, let me know how that game of Russian Roulette goes.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 cup - 110 calories, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 35 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 13 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of protein, a whole lot of vitamins and minerals, 2 future shitty pop singers, and 1 future College Musical trilogy.)

(Editor’s Note: I’m not the only one who thinks this cereal sucks. Also, here’s a movie review of High School Musical 3: Senior Year. Just in case you’re forced to see it.)

Item: Kellogg’s High School Musical Cereal
Price: $2.49
Size: 9 ounces
Purchased at: Star Market
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy. No singing coming out from the box. Vitamins and minerals. Asking for a nude photo of Vanessa Hudgens to end up on the internet and getting it. Being the greatest parent in the world.
Cons: Bland. Box is kind of small compared with other sugary cereals. Not as sugary sweet as a High School Musical movie. White specks don’t seem to add anything to cereal. My overworked jazz hands. Being the worst parent in the world. Having to erase stuff on your TiVo you haven’t gotten around to watching yet.

Is it just me or is Chester Cheetah too much into cheese? Look at him on the packaging of the new limited edition Cheetos Crunchy Mozzarella, which I took a picture of in Wal-Mart when the folks in blue vests weren’t looking. Now I don’t mean a connoisseur of cheese, I’m talking a full blown cheese whore who would do ANYTHING for a little taste of the curds and whey. If that’s not the face of a cheese whore, I don’t know what it. It’s like he’s ready to snort a few lines of white mozzarella cheese, or otherwise known on the street as Italian Gold. Also, I’m not too sure what’s more disturbing; the albino white mozzarella on these Cheetos or the radioactive orange stuff on regular Cheetos?

Metaphorically, I always seem to put my foot in my mouth, but I’ve never been able to do it literally because I lack the flexibility of a Chinese acrobat and my feet smell like stinky cheese and ballsack sweat. However, thanks to the Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito I can now experience what it feels like to have something that is roughly the mass of someone’s foot and stick it in my mouth. I would’ve listed all of the ingredients, but I figured by the time you got half way through, you might have chest pains from just reading it. With 770 calories and 47 grams of fat, it’s a gluttonous way to start your morning. It’s available now at your nearest Carl’s Jr. for $2.69.

Sick of candy from last night? This week’s Week in Reviews is 100% candy-free.

No one comes out a winner in a battle between Maruchan Instant Lunch and Nissin Cup Noodles. It’s a culinary Catch-22. (via Second Rate Snacks)

This movie had me at “porno.” (via Pajiba)

Thanks, advancements in technology. Not only do I have to buy the latest and greatest iPod every year to enjoy my music, TV shows, podcasts, and movies, I now have to buy the latest and greatest Philips Norelco Bodygroom to keep my crotch lawn from turning into a forest. (via The Message Whore)

(Insert lolcat picture here with caption “I can has leen poket cheezburger?”) (via I Ate A Pie)

The only quiche I like is the quiche I put on a Scrabble board to kick your ass. Bitches! (via Heat Eat Review)

Mmm…churros.

They’re a staple at carnivals, amusement parks, sports stadiums, movie theaters, Renaissance Fairs, Civil War battle reenactments, and underground cockfights. But now you can get them any time you want, without having to pay admission, dress up in clothing with poofy shoulders, or choose whether you’re a part of the Union or Confederacy, just as long as you have a Jack in the Box nearby.

The Jack in the Box Mini Churros are shaped like most churros — they look like something that comes out of a Play-Doh fun factory, except it doesn’t come in psychedelic colors that makes the hippies say “whoa” and the little kiddies scream. You can get them in either five or ten bite-sized pieces. I purchased the five-piece one, which was reasonably priced and, when combined, seemed to equal a regular-length churro.

The churros may look like shorter versions of the ones you eat after flashing your boobs on Disneyland’s Splash Mountain, but instead of the traditional sprinkling of the sugar and cinnamon on the churro, the mini churros are injected with a cinnamon and sugar filling.

The cinnamon and sugar on a regular churro you got after taking a spin on the gravity machine at the county fair is there to cover the greasy taste of the fried dough, but the cinnamon and sugar filling in the Jack in the Box Mini Churros wasn’t very successful with masking the oily taste. There’s a hint of cinnamon and sugar, but since it appears everything was dipped in oil, the sweet flavors hardly survived after being fried. The only good thing about them being fried is that they’re crunchy, but then again, everything that’s fried is crunchy.

It’s hard to believe it’s taken this long for one of the big fast food chains to deliver their own version of the deep-fried pastry, after all if there’s any group that’s known for their deep-frying, it’s fast food chains…and people with really crispy turkeys on Thanksgiving. I’m surprised Taco Bell didn’t come out with a churro before everyone else, since they’re number one in fake-Mexican fast food. Yes, I know they have cinnamon twists, but why don’t call them churros? Maybe churros are just too authentic for them.

Since I didn’t really care for the Jack in the Box Mini Churros, I guess I must continue getting my deep-fried cinnamon and sugar pastries at underground cockfights. I just hope I don’t say the wrong password before I enter.

Item: Jack in the Box Mini Churros
Price: $1.49 ($1.00 in the rest of the US)
Size: 5 pieces
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Reasonably priced. Crunchy. Bite-sized. Play-Doh.
Cons: Greasy-tasting. Not very sugary or cinnamon-y. Sugar and cinnamon are injected in filling form, instead of being sprinkled on. Getting churros at underground cockfights. Saying the wrong password at a cockfight.

(Editor’s Note: Today’s review was written by new TIB writer Reprobate, who you can read about here.)

Ah…Subway, the only chain restaurant publicly endorsed by a formerly fat guy. I especially love their new marketing gimmick advertising the $5 footlong where everyone shows five fingers and then parts their hands about a foot apart. But I think that we all know what that “foot long” really represents: the male wang. And is it mere coincidence that the average wang is around 5 inches? I think not and I’m damn proud to say I have an average phallus. But you didn’t come here to hear me rant about male phallus conspiracies or penis euphemisms.

The Subway Chicken Pizziola sub supposedly fuses the awesome powers of chicken and pizza flavors. Of course, when you consider that Subway uses bland chicken and isn’t a pizza shop whatsoever, well, expectations fall flatter than a flaccid wang. It also doesn’t help that the full 12 inches is packing enough salt to kill a platoon of tough snails and has 32 grams of fat, which is probably why Jared isn’t anywhere near this sandwich. God bless his tiny little khakis.

This toasted sandwich comes standard with one of their breads, chicken, pepperoni slices, a cheese, and a marinara sauce as well as any extra toppings. I had mine outfitted with black olives, green peppers, and red onions. The marinara sauce was a little too sweet and overpowering, dominating the bland chicken and weak pepperoni slices. The fact that its papery condom came with red oily streaks is also a bit of a downer. Still, the bread was decent (certainly better than the kind that comes with a twisty tie or a plastic toe tag) and retained its toasty crunch after a short transport from the Subway to my cubicle at work. The veggie add-ons also provided some crunch and kept some of their flavor, thanks to the cheese’s protective barrier. It also helps that this sandwich is big enough to silence a hungry sex machine with a real footlong and it’s only five bucks before taxes.

The Subway Chicken Pizziola is not a bad sandwich, but certainly not a good one either. I think I’ll stick with their chicken bacon ranch footlong as my default Subway sandwich for the time being, even if it’s packing enough fat to shrink my wang into the folds of my flesh.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 footlong - 880 calories, 32 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 160 milligrams of cholesterol, 3040 milligrams of sodium, 96 grams of carbohydrates, 12 grams of dietary fiber, 18 grams of sugar, and 61 grams of protein.)

Item: Subway Chicken Pizziola
Price: $5.30
Size: Footlong
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Big enough to satisfy a hungry sex machine. Being proud of having an average “footlong.” Penis euphemisms. The awesome powers of pizza and chicken, tiny khakis, and sex machines. $5.
Cons: Male phallus conspiracies. Overpowering sweet tomato sauce. Bland chicken. Weak pepperoni. 3,040 milligrams of sodium. Flaccid and shrinking wangs.

Too many products, so little time. Thank goodness for other review blogs.

There’s a new limited edition Pepsi in Japan that tastes like yogurt. I’m waiting for Japan to come out with a Pepsi that tastes like Pepsi. (via Mike’s Blender)

I’m going to eat these to avenge the death of Newman in Jurassic Park. (via Candyblog)

I’ve never wanted to have sex with a burger before, but this burger makes me want to commit meatiality. (via Fast Food Critic)

Both Gold n Cremes and Twinkies sound like porn genres. (via Second Rate Snacks)

Older women who chase younger men now have their own energy drink. Now that middle-aged women have their own energy drink, I’m guessing elderly people will soon get their own too. Extreme Ensure, perhaps? (via Energy Drink Ratings)

Dipping a chicken patty into a sauce like you’re trying to get it to admit it’s a witch sounds like a great way to ensure there’s flavor in every bite, such is the case with the new Wendy’s Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwiches, but a sauce soaked piece of chicken is also a spectacular way to ruin an $80 shirt from Banana Republic or hide your mistress’ lipstick stain on your collar from your girlfriend/wife.

The Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwich comes in two flavors: BBQ and Buffalo. The BBQ version also consists of onions and pickles inside a bun, while the Buffalo version is also made up of lettuce, tomatoes, and a blue cheese sauce in between a bun. While both mostly have different ingredients, they have one thing in common — both are extremely fucking messy. After eating one, my hands were covered in enough sauce that it looked like I was the one who sensually massaged the sauce onto the chicken patty. A napkin was not enough to clean the mess, I needed a shower. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little bit, but I did use enough napkins to make an Ent cry.

The chicken patties for both sandwiches may have gotten dipped in sauce like a nerd’s head in a toilet, but the flavors weren’t as strong as I thought it would be. The BBQ sauce wasn’t very tangy and the Buffalo sauce wasn’t as spicy as Hooters wings. Although, the Buffalo sandwich might not have been too spicy because of the blue cheese sauce, which I didn’t even know it had until I researched the sandwich on the Wendy’s website. The pickles and onions in the BBQ version of the sandwich definitely enhanced its flavor and gave it a little more crunch, while the lettuce and tomatoes in the Buffalo one will allow some people to proclaim they had vegetables today.

Overall, both sandwiches were decent tasting, but I really expected more out of them, not only in taste, but also in size. These sandwiches weren’t very big, but I reckoned them to be because I paid almost five bucks for each of them. Apparently, not only is gas an expensive liquid, but so are BBQ and Buffalo sauces. So I guess I’d better hoard the stuff whenever I order Chicken McNuggets and scrape it off my $80 Banana Republic shirt whenever I spill some on it.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 sandwich - Buffalo - 530 calories, 220 calories from fat, 24 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 1840 milligrams of sodium, 510 milligrams of potassium, 52 grams of carbs, 2 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 26 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 10% Vitamin C, 10% Calcium, and 15% Iron. BBQ - 450 calories, 110 calories from fat, 12 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat, 40 milligrams cholesterol, 1430 milligrams sodium, 450 milligrams potassium, 60 grams carbs, 2 grams of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, 25 grams of protein, 2% Vitamin A, 8% Vitamin C, 8% Calcium, and 15% Iron.)

(Editor’s Note: Fast Food Critic also review this sandwich.)

Item: Wendy’s Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwiches (BBQ & Buffalo)
Price: $4.69 each
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 6 out of 10 (BBQ)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Buffalo)
Pros: Decent tasting. Lots of sauce. BBQ one is “healthier” than Buffalo version. Wonderful source of protein. Pickles and onions in BBQ version. Lettuce and tomatoes are vegetables.
Cons: Flavors weren’t as strong as I expected for something that’s dipped in sauce. BBQ sauce wasn’t very tangy and Buffalo sauce wasn’t very spicy. Blue cheese sauce wasn’t very noticeable. Pricey for what you get. Extremely fucking messy. Making Ents cry. Wonderful source of sodium. Ruining an $80 Banana Republic shirt with sauce. Excessive napkin use. Trying to get a piece of chicken to admit it’s a witch.