Perhaps you've noticed that your friendly neighborhood bloggerman has been theming pretty hard in one direction lately. That's because I positively adore hamburgers, and I can't stop thinking about them. In fact, I love hamburgers so much that I pledge my undying devotion to them, right here, right now, on this very blog. If you could see me now, you'd see a guy who is down on one knee, because that's how really serious pledges are made. Incidentally, I was not on one knee when I asked Alex to marry me. I was in a hammock in Venezuela, which is even better. But I'm not marrying hamburgers, for chrissake, I'm pledging my devotion to them, not in balmy Venezuela, but in frigid Indiana. That's a different kind of commitment, though NOT one I make lightly.
Being from Akron, which is something of a Mecca when it comes to great burgers, I know the importance of having a reliably delicious burger joint nearby. Here in West Lafayette, Indiana we have Triple XXX, where you can get a world-class hamburger. Thank god, because the way I see it, any town where you can't get a good burger is no better than a cesspool. A reeking, bubbling, gaseous, noxious, slime-filled cesspool. No, none of these goddam disgusting places count:
Any other similar, shitty establishment serving toxic, prefabricated deathburgers
It pains me that we did NOT go to Whitey's last week as planned. We ended up slumming at the Cavs/Mavs game, watching the Cavaliers run the Mavericks out of the building. Sure it was great fun to see a win, but there was a day when Whitey's Booze n' Burgers and Cavs basketball were virtually synonymous.
That's material I'll save for another day.