Everything Here Sounds Disgusting

That's going to be the name of my new restaurant. Here's a few of our key dishes:

• Gastritis Fries
• DeEsophagizer
  
• Pungent Patties
• Soylent Burger

What respectable joint is complete without a signature drink? Which is why I present:

• The Runs.
  What is it? I sure as hell don't know, but damn if it ain't delicious.

And like all respectable sit down family places, there's always the ever present threat of some food monstrosity bound and determined to reek havoc on your fine dining experience, unless of course you can defeat it in an act of unparalleled bestial wrath, and consume it in a furious bout of timed gorging. So, to satisfy the eXtreme glutton in us all, Everything Here Sounds Disgusting proudly, and humbly, presents

THE COLOSTOMIZER!

My only regret is that I don't have a font large enough to bring the powerful and immense grandeur of this proud beast to your screens. The exact size and weight of this "terror of the modern age" cannot be determined, but I can tell you this: it will not be bound by our petty 18" plates. It's massive bulk hangs over the edge, gracefully. The buns have sealed themselves to the top of this bulk with the concrete grip of hot molten grease, rivers of boiling cheese cascade, playfully, down the sides. It truly is a creature deserving of our greatest respect.

Now, you'd think we'd be done there. Not so. Not so. Last night, as I go to lay down on my head, three simple words are uttered into my head. Three simple words which jostle me from my rest, and impel me to write them down. Three. Simple. Words.

I present to you the crown prince of Everything Here Sounds Disgusting:

Irritable
Bowel
Burger

Everything Here Sounds Disgusting. "Yeah. It's that good."

"Burger of the Apocalypse" or "Hell's Beef"

So, I'm not usually given to writing about this sort of thing. Not at all. This is a special occasion. Enter: Odyssey Chicago.

So, I had a burger. It tasted alright, but it's reeking havoc on me. I think something is trying to live in there. Anyways, I had to go. Really really bad. So, I got up to go use the john. The “regular” one, the non-handicapped one, was disgusting to behold. Toilet paper all over the bowl, wet, sticky... used. It was gross. I turn to the handicapped one, and I hear a strange “chunking” sound. I lean in a little, and it's a man, standing up, peeing, and throwing up at the same time. Gross. I turn to leave, and make eye contact with the other guy in the bathroom as we're leaving (men's room etiquette no-no), and he says, “I'll be damned. First time I've seen that.” Indeed.

So, I went back to my table and sat and waited for a few minutes. Dear Lord, I can wait no longer. I think I actually ignored one of my friends as I ran to the john. I get there, and, good, the handicapped one is free, and this man was one of talent, apparently. The bowl is clean. I do my business, and as I leave, I notice little pools of carrot and noodle on the floor. Gross. Apparently his aim is not as good as previously thought.

So, here I am now. This burger is still working its dark magic on me. My stomach feels very hellish, and I, in general, feel very weird. I wonder if I got food poisoning. Maybe I'll get to call in tomorrow and stay home. Wouldn't that be a treat? I mean, a treat with a cost.