Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger

Ladies and gentlemen. I am about to do something amazing right now. I am going to eat the Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger here in front of you in one sitting. I know what you’re thinking. You’re looking at the burger and thinking to yourself that it seems like an easy feat to accomplish, like beating a five-year-old at arm wrestling or making out with Tila Tequila.

But let me tell you that this here burger is no mere burger, ladies and gentlemen. The Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger features a seasoned sirloin patty on a bakery-style bun with bacon, American cheese, fried onion rings, and a BBQ sauce. This burger has the ability to make nutritionists cry, turn the obese obese-er, and make an Olsen twin look pregnant if eaten whole. Now watch as I stick this burger in my mouth.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Now you’re probably saying to yourself that sticking the burger into my mouth didn’t look too hard, but let me tell you that this burger had the capacity to make many things hard, like my arteries and Jack’s cock since these pricey sirloin burgers are making him a ton of money. Let me take another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Ladies and gentlemen. I have taken several bites from the Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger and it appears that I have not been affected by it, but the truth be told, that I have been deeply affected by it. When I am done with this burger, 1,010 calories, 49 grams of fat, 5 grams of trans fat, 2,190 milligrams of sodium, and 91 grams of carbs will have entered my body. To rid myself of all of this, I am forced to do something extreme, called exercise. Let me partake in another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, it is difficult to completely consume this burger, because it is very bland. Despite all of its ingredients, none of them were noticeable. The BBQ sauce was very light in flavor, the onion rings had no taste, and the sirloin patty was disappointing. If this burger actually tasted good, I wouldn’t feel so bad about risking my health for it. It’s like I would have sex with Tara Reid, if I knew by doing so, she wouldn’t make anymore movies. Let me take another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

I give up! Uncle! Uncle! I am sorry to disappoint, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, I am unable to consume the entire burger within one sitting. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to eat tofu and rice for the rest of the week to detox.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 burger – 1,010 calories, 49 grams of fat, 19 grams of saturated fat, 5 grams of trans fat, 150 milligrams of cholesterol, 2,190 milligrams of sodium, 690 milligrams of potassium, 91 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 16 grams of sugar, 52 grams of protein, and 1,000 grams of regret.)

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to yawnie and dramastically for suggesting this burger. Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.)

Item: Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger
Price: $7.19 (small combo)
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Hearty burger. Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom. Having sex with Tara Reid if it means she would no longer do any acting.
Cons: Motherfucking unhealthy. Lack of vegetables that aren’t deep fried. BBQ taste was almost nonexistent. Onion rings didn’t add anything, except a crunch. Making out with Tila Tequila.

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REVIEW: Flamin’ Hot Funyuns

If you’ve ever attended elementary school, you probably remember the one boy that really enjoyed his food. He would eat a hamburger as if he was making out with it and smother spaghetti sauce along his face as if it were a velvety smooth shaving cream. For that kid, eating was not just simple consumption; it was a sensual ritual rivaled only by the raunchiest of all sex acts. Of course, none of us really knew the dynamics of intercourse at the time, so that kid indulged in the closest thing there was. It was absolutely disgusting — and I wanted in.

Sure, the kids made fun of him, but who was the joke on? While the rest of us were worried about tripping at recess or pissing our pants, he was doing exactly what he wanted. We should all learn a lesson from that boy. It’s time to forget about looking cool with chai-flavored biscotti and time to stop giving a damn. That’s why I picked up a giant bag of Flamin’ Hot Funyuns.

Introduced in 1994, these messy rings of pungency were mysteriously taken off the market soon after they hit stores. It was probably due to the fact that kids were coming to class with eye-burning red fingers and the strong smell of onion powder, effectively destroying any will that the barely motivated teachers already had. This potent combination somehow manages to make junk food even less sexy.

Fortunately, I made it a point not to care about those things any more. Now that these fiery rings of onion-flavored corn are back, I can finally enjoy their addictive messy flavor. Unlike Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, where the cheese flavoring is essentially masked, the pleasant onion taste of the Funyuns is a nice contrast to the heat.

If you’ve ever had other Flamin’ Hot products, you’ll pretty much know what to expect. It’s a slow burn of red peppers followed by that weird hissing sound you make when you don’t want to wussy out and drink water. These chips are a perfect addictive snack for any social occasion − as long as it’s with people you’re not trying to impress.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 oz., around 13 chips – 130 calories, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 300mg sodium, 16 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 2% Vitamin A, 0% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 4% Iron)

Item: Flamin’ Hot Funyuns
Price: $2.99
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Very addictive. Heat doesn’t overpower the Funyun goodness. Not worrying about being cool when snacking. Hamburger make-out, depending on how you feel about that sort of thing.
Cons: You’ll probably look and smell like a woodland creature while you’re eating these. Accidentally wiping your eyes with the red powder on your fingers. Hamburger make-out, depending on how you feel about that sort of thing.

REVIEW: IHOP Who-Cakes

At a table in the back is a parent who doesn’t care.
Their child is giving them their spoiled glare.
They whine and swear about how it’s not fair.
“I WANT WHO-CAKES!” is what they blare.
Others in the restaurant hear it, then stop and stare.
So the parent orders IHOP Who-Cakes out of despair.

The impatient kid slams the utensils in a hissy fit.
I mutter a little whit, “Fucking spoiled little shit.”
Loud brat has me thinking vasectomy, I will admit.
This child’s parent is unfit, just like that bitch Brit.
When the Who-Cakes came, I thought it’ll quiet for a bit.
But that little annoying bundle of hell wouldn’t quit.

The Who-Cakes are something no child should eat.
The frosting colors seem unnatural and sweet.
It’s like a volcano spewing M&M’s and clown excrete.
I won’t consider it a meal on its own, it’s more like a treat.
I know having one could make diabetes and me meet.
So I pray for the best, order the Who-Cakes and feel replete.

I can’t believe these IHOP Who-Cakes is what I crave.
There are so many things about it that makes me afraid.
Blue and pink berry frosting made to look like a cascade.
A pink lollipop stabbed through, so no pancake strayed.
Because of this, Dr. Seuss’ body is rolling in its grave.
It also did that after the Cat in the Hat movie was made.

I only ate half of the IHOP Who-Cakes on the plate.
There wasn’t enough of the frosting on it to regulate.
It tasted like pancakes with blueberries that were fake.
M&M’s in breakfast food seems weird to partake.
The bubblegum flavored lollipop was its best trait.
The sugar in this dish will probably add some weight.

Even the noisy, spoiled little punk couldn’t eat it through.
Fortunately, overdosing on sugar caused him to be subdue.
This mountain of hot cakes and candy isn’t worth it to pursue.
I can’t believe IHOP had a movie tie-in for Horton Hears A Who.
Thankfully, once the movie stops playing we will bid it adieu.
So until then, please consider making the Who-Cakes taboo.

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to TIB reader Caroline for suggesting the IHOP Who-Cakes and subjecting me to children who were like little bundles of joy, if joy were a swift kick to the head.)

Item: IHOP Who-Cakes
Price: $4.99
Purchased at: IHOP
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Bubblegum flavored lollipop. NKOTB reunion.
Cons: Tastes like artificial blueberry pancakes when eating with unnatural colored frosting. Not a complete breakfast. Not enough frosting crap on it. Candy + pancakes = possible diabetes. Frosting colors don’t occur in nature. No nutritional facts on website.

Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes Gold

If you want your kid to succeed, because you weren’t athletic, talented, pretty, or smart enough to be successful when you were growing up, then Frosted Flakes Gold cereal just might be what your kids need to give you the opportunity to live vicariously through them. According to the box, the crunchy flakes made with whole grain and baked with honey is supposed to provide long-lasting energy, a label usually reserved for energy drinks and wang medications.

With a name like Frosted Flakes Gold, I was hoping that there would be gold in the box, like the gold flakes in Goldschlager or the golden light that shines out of Selma Hayek’s va-jay-jay. Despite my extensive digging, I couldn’t find any gold, not even with the help of Heather Mills. The only thing shiny about the cereal was the box it came in, which had a foil exterior.

Frosted Flakes Gold cereal smelled like Golden Grahams cereal and it tasted like store-brand lite pancake syrup, which actually isn’t bad compared with this cereal’s predecessor, the shitastic Kellogg’s Tiger Power. After eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes Gold cereal every morning for a week, I have to say that I didn’t feel like it was giving me long-lasting energy. If the high fructose corn syrup it in was replaced with caffeine or meth, it would probably give me two to three hours of lasting energy, followed by some downtime or my mouth wrapped around things it shouldn’t be wrapped around.

I’m not a parent, but what I’ve learned from watching “I Know My Kid’s A Star” is that children don’t need special whole grain cereals that’s promoted by a cartoon tiger in order to be successful. All they need are parents who are crazy enough to stab someone in the back for their child, demanding enough to cause their children to turn to alcohol before they can drive, and shameless enough to have their child be a part of a reality show on VH1 with Danny Bonaduce.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 110 calories, 0.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 30 milligrams of potassium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 14 grams of other carbohydrates, 2 grams of protein, and a whole lot of vitamins and nutrients.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes Gold
Price: $6.59 (16.9-ounces)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Fancy shiny box. Decent tasting. Tastes like lite pancake syrup. Smells like Golden Grahams. 3 grams of fiber per serving. Better than Tiger Power cereal. Selma Hayek’s va-jay-jay.
Cons: High Fructose Corn Syrup. Doesn’t seem to give me long-lasting energy. The parents on “I Know My Kid’s A Star.” Couldn’t find gold with Heather Mills’ help. Wrapping my mouth around things it shouldn’t be wrapped around.

Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger

When The King isn’t watching you sleep or molesting your children, he’s in the corporate test kitchen. He’s probably molesting the chefs too, but what he’s really doing is finding ways to slowly kill you with fat so that he may harvest your organs to pay for the medical bills that come from maintaining that abnormally large head of his. It’s no surprise that he managed to get this gut-busting Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger green-lit.

There’s also a regular Steakhouse Burger that has lettuce and tomatoes, but for entertainment purposes I decided to go with the more gastronomically disgusting Loaded variety. It’s a cubed angus steak (basically chewy ground beef), about ten strips of bacon, A1 Sauce, fried onion strings, and “loaded mashed potatoes on a corn-dusted bun. I use the term “loaded” very loosely because I got a smear of mashed potatoes the size of a pat of butter. “Ripped Off” mashed potatoes would be much more fitting.

Of course, I haven’t even gotten to the insanity inherent in a burger with mashed potatoes as a selling point. KFC already crossed several lines with their Famous Bowls, but the PR people at Burger King took it to another level by trying to sell this burger as “the indulgence of an entire steak dinner at a fraction of the cost.” What they fail to mention is that the steak dinner they are referring to is Banquet’s Salisbury Steak, which is on sale at your local supermarket for 99 cents, ironically a fraction of the $6.99 you’ll be paying for this combo.

Once you get down to it, you’re paying a rather hefty price for a rather meager burger that consists of dry, chewy beef, a pig’s ass worth of bacon, a gentle wipe of mashed potatoes, and some crushed Funyuns. This is the type of burger that you should be absolutely embarrassed to order. It is the type of burger that is only dreamt up by the fattest of all fat people and the stoniest of all stoners. The type of burger that you want to tell your mom about, but are too afraid because she would think you were shooting up heroin with the wrong crowd.

Don’t let The King harvest your organs. Boycott this overpriced monstrosity.

Item: Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger
Price: $6.99 for medium combo
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: A ridiculous yet ballsy concept for a burger. A fun story to tell your friends about after it gets pulled. A1 sauce tastes a little better than Burger King’s barbecue sauce.
Cons: Burger is way smaller than advertised. Almost no mashed potatoes. Onions are nearly non-existent. Angus beefsteak is chewy and flavorless. Horrendously overpriced. The King.