Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Why I eat at Krystal's

Recently on Better Living Thru Blogging and a few others, the subject of a new Burger King ad was brought up, with the mid-seventies King returning to sell breakfast. Actually, it's a guy in a giant King head sitting in the bed of a freshly woken man, who's noticed that there's a leftover from Mardi Gras giving him a double meat breakfast sandwich. Now when I was a kid, The King was cool to me. He was the Urban Ronald McDonald to me, as they didn't have ANY Mickey D's on my side of town. To an 10 yeah old, The Whopper was a big deal. No regular burger, no no Whopper Jr., nope. I got Whoppers. This may explain my weight problems, as well as problems with my father, who bought those and comic books for me as a child. But they all made me happy then. Now, all I have is my books. The old man's in the pokey and The Whopper doesn't taste the same anymore. You can imagine how I feel about the new ad.

BK for sometime now has been doing these types of ads for awhile, trying to boost their image as you hip- with-it fast food place. No such luck with me. They've been changing ad agencies a lot the past few years trying to get the right image to defeat McDonald's. A lot of folks said The Subservient Chicken was weird, but I gotta say that those Angus Burger ads were wrong.

Just plain goddangged, frickin' creepy. Don't believe me? Click here and go to Angus Interventions. This made me NEVER wanting to eat an Angus Burger, along with nightmares out of the ying yang. It's like "Who the hell came up with this one and why are they EVEN still working for us? This guy makes Siegfried and Roy look like Huntley and Brinkley!"

Simmer on that reference for a bit, then finish this post.

Now, in all honesty, I have my own fast food heaven called Krystal's. If you're north of the Mason Dixon, then you know. If not, it's like a White Castle burger. 'Cept different. I've actually had both in my lifetime, and were impressed with both, but you jut can't beat a Krystal after a long night at the bar, the doctor, sex, et al. You can't just get two of them. Nope, you gotta get a sack of 'em. You can't do that with a Whopper. In my prime, I would put away a dozen of those things without breathing. Bread, meat, pickles and onions, with mustard, steamed. Sheer joy. Bless you, Mr. Krystal's man. We know Harold and Kumar may like your evil and not as

southern and sweet like you twin, but you are there for the drunks, strippers and potheads who call for a run to your alter at 3:42 am.

Great...Now I'm frickin' starved. I gotta make a run. Late!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I have never had the privalege of getting myself to either of those places, they simply dont Exist here in the San Fran Bay Area the latest plce is open till like 2, which really is just not late enough for those who live the night life.

By the way I just stumbled here blog hopping I might be back (dun dun dun)