My Ongoing Battle With Rodeo Burgers--(Quite Possibly My Most Bat-Shit Crazy Post Ever)

Batman has the Joker. Superman has Lex Luthor. Mario has Bowser. Everyone has an arch-nemesis out there. Mine happens to be an inanimate cheeseburger with onion rings and barbeque sauce.

Let’s break this down, seeing as I probably don’t have much time left on my life clock. Without knowing it, I engaged in what I’d like to call a “Rodeo-Burger-A-Thon.” It is as you guessed it--a personal challenge to myself to see how many of those bastard burgers I can eat before passing out or suffering through cardiac arrest. I don’t know why I chose today of all days, but the stars aligned and I had a table with a stable of enemies. Burger three I got woozy as hell and was starting to lose sense of reality. I later powered onto burger four, and needless to say, the last 3.5 hours have been a mash-up of a blur, brief PTSD moments involving the burgers, and gummy bears. No I don’t know why the best remedy for whatever was happening to me was gummy bears, but I ran with it.

While not medically possible, I think I’ve given myself an enlarged heart. It’s working so hard to balance out the cholesterol, the sugar, the random espresso shot (?), and my overall will to not be at work.

Is the Rodeo Burger the ultimate chad-bro-chill food? I can only see a grilled stuffed burrito competing for that title. If my memory serves me correctly, I was part of a fictional gang in high school called JMFB (don’t ask) and our “signature food item” (I swear I wasn’t a nerd, I played sports!) was the rodeo burger. We were the only ones able to rep the rodeo burger unless otherwise noted. All of sudden, for like 8 months, they took the rodeo burger off the menu. It was like we all lost a friend. We couldn’t look at a Burger King without our stomachs growling and our belts loosening. That shows the staying power of the sandwich with not only me, but many other people’s hearts. It’s like when the Green Ranger was the Power Ranger’s enemy, but they still cared about him and wanted the best for him…err something.

Before I pass out drunk off Rodeo Burger grease and BBQ residue, I want to say that I will forever have a love-hate relationship with this sandwich. I care too much, but I can never commit.

Rodeo Burger, you are my Buggaboo. Destiny’s Child, take us away!