With the heat of Summer fully upon us, my metabolism has increased, much like the hours in the day. My feeding tract has become almost insatiable, I mean seriously, it kinda sucks.
So I made my way to Bacon Island:
But it turns out that there is actually nothing out there but sketchy dudes going fishing, so I continued due East to Stockton, where I chanced upon a whole town seemingly comprised of sketchy dudes on tricycles with boomboxes, and one whimsical establishment by the name of Moo Moo’s Burger Barn:
Remember when you were a kid and you would forget to close your asshole and your dad would yell at you and say “What’s the matter kid?! You born in a burger barn?” Well, this is where your dad got that saying from. They have so many different items to choose from that asshole-opening resulting from gnarly blowouts is bound to incur:
I was pretty stoked to see that all of the burgers are referred to as ‘moo’s’ for added humiliation to the customer upon ordering. It’s good to see local businesses keeping their customer base humble. It’s actually pretty hard not to be humble when you are surrounded by this kind of stuff:
I felt like baby Jesus in a burger manger.
I jumped on the floor a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t in one of those bounce houses kids rent for their birthdays, and then I took a seat. The way it works here is sort of like Denny’s. Server boy comes and takes your order and waits on you, and then you pay your bill when you are ready up front. When the server boy came I quickly scanned the menu and picked what sounded like it would be the biggest serving of food, the Monster Moo:
My assistant got the Morning Moo (insert shit joke here), and a shake, which was a good call because Stockton is hott as ballz:
The creams had a good consistency, not so thick as to create undue resistance with spooning, but also not thin enough to make straw slurping easy. Good creams. Then my burger came:
The server boy came out and was like ‘Here’s a Monster Moo….’ and I was kinda like ‘Uhhh, what?’ I mean, look at this thing! I looks like a fucking finger sandwich for Grandma’s Sunday Tea Party.
“The Monster Moo is just above the crumpets dear!”
Upon further inspection of the menu, I realized that yes, I am indeed a complete dumbass that needs to learn how to read a menu. But seriously though, if I showed you the above picture of the burger and asked you to describe it in one word, I’m pretty sure MONSTER would not be it. Nevertheless, I devoured it all and it was delicious. The Moo Sauce was especially delightful. I love how the sauce just soaks into the whole burger, like sour cream in a super burrito. Having a burger on white bread was also partly nostalgic because I haven’t had one since I was a kid. For some reason my dad would always cook burgers but forget he didn’t have any buns, so yeah, given my surroundings and my white bread burger, it felt like I was a kid again, except this time around my dick was a lot bigger. My assistant’s Morning Moo looked fucking tasty:
Cheese was glistening pretty hard, and the bacon sticking out the side provided the pork delight that was so sorely missed on the Island. My assistant even let me eat half of it, and it ruled. Would I come back out this way for a burger? Well, I think Anthony V. puts it the most eloquently:
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