I would describe the taste as what you would expect if you licked the oil off the machine parts in a gun. It seemed very industrial. I decided to add a little sweetness from the Popin' Cookin' kitchen, but after I dumped out the packet I was unable to go through with another bite.
I didn't feel very good after the one bite so I put the Whopper aside and checked the box for anything else. There was one other thing, quite heavy, with a disturbing appearance.
I turned it over. Apparently it was a pair of fake boobs that you can place censored carrots between.
I didn't have any carrots, so I put one of my #24 Jeff Gordon energy drinks there. It seemed like it would stay there pretty well, so if there was an earthquake or you were in a car doing a power slide around a turn I think these fake boobs would hold onto your drink pretty well.
It also worked fairly well...
...as a sloppy Whopper holder.
Peter did finally get back to me about eating some of the sex spray and bukkake lotion on a hamburger.
Over the years Peter has sent me roughly fifteen emails trying to get me to review Tenga eggs. I think they're eggs you jack off with. Every time I have to tell him, "Peter, no, I can't review eggs you jack off with."
But I'll store my Whoppers in his tits.
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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