Recently I took the Amtrak Slow Dirge Express From Hell all the 24-hour way to Grand Junction, Colorado.


Obviously sitting on your ass for 24 hours doing absolutely nothing does some weird stuff to your body. That much sitting typically causes my shitting schedule to come to a screeching halt, as if the Conductor of my Ass sees a 17 year old with a Slipknot shirt walking on the Ass Tracks. So I’m literally full of shit, but also due to no activity I’m not really hungry, so I don’t really eat. To top it off, I’m irritable as fuck. So I end up with some kind of wrathful deity inside my ass/stomach that wants to just claw its dirty little shit fingers into some dumpster food. Imagine having Irritable Bowel Syndrome, but in your dick….but then imagine that feeling inside your stomach. Then you get off the train, and BOOM…there’s the fucking holy grail before you:


God giveth, God taketh away, then God maketh you fat as fucketh. 

Yes, this place is called Pufferbelly Station. If you don’t think that fucking rules then you need to go back to school and study some political science or something because Pufferbelly Station rules with a totalitarian cold iron fist that executes all dissidents and dietitians. You don’t believe me? Let’s step inside:



Instantly the smell of grease meets the visitor, with perhaps a faint yet discernible odor of tobacco smoke:

The waitress greeted me and escorted me to my seat. We passed the rack where locals keep their coffee mugs:


I was curious where she had decided to seat me because according to one Google review there is a  possibility of a ‘Whites Only Section’ here:

pufferbelly review

Seeing as how there is only like 5 people who aren’t white in Grand Junction it is hard to tell if you are in the Whites Only Section or not. She left me with a menu to dive into once I got to the table, and headfirst in I went:


Cool biscuit story


Waffles come with everflowing stream of syrup of top


Lots of good biscuit options




They hand-patty the burgers every day. 

I am not sure why they are making such a big deal about hand-pattying the burgers. It’s not that hard to do:


There is also a little side menu on the table for specials and weird shit to do in town:


Apparently this is what passes for ‘art’ in Colorado. This, and Kokopelli bracelets. 

Everything on the menu sounded fucking rad, especially the items with the little arrow next to them that indicates that you get 2 sides: the hash browns AND your choice of toast, biscuit, cinnamon roll, or endless pancakes. The sides alone are a pretty good stroll down the left-hand path of an utmost ruling feast, especially if you decide to fuck with the endless pancakes. It was either gonna be the ‘Biscuit Supreme’ and it’s promise of a big ass biscuit the size of a cat’s head (a grossly under-utilized unit of measurement) or the ‘Supreme Hobo Breakfast’ and its promise of a life of grandeur off the streets for just one big fat breakfast. Finally the time had come to decide and this is what I got:


Supreme HOBO! 

My assistant got the Biscuit Supreme:


Lots of bagged shredded cheese on deck

The assistant requested the gravy on the side to facilitate biscuit dipping:


The waitress brought out these rad hot sauces for us, which they also sell at the front of the restaurant:


Dads love a good hot sauce! 

The hot sauce actually looked pretty legit, and although it wasn’t very spicy, it was very tasty. It went well with my massive hobo tent city of a grease feast I was having:


As you can see in the above picture, there were all kinds of meats nestled in between gravy lumps and cheeses, making every mouthful quite enjoyable. There were also some veggies and eggs in there but I feel like they are more there to provide some color and texture to the wave of grease that was sliding into my body. I found it quite enjoyable though. Another person of more discerning palate who might be looking for a more nuanced flavor might be a little bummed. And you know what? Maybe that person would have a point…perhaps there is more to food than getting full and stoked….or perhaps such thoughts are fucking dumb and should be immediately followed by full Pufferbelly Syndrome????


Although the dish also consists of hash browns, I was a bit disappointed that there was no side of additional hash browns included with my dish. The little arrow next to the dish promised a side of hash browns AND 1 (one) other item! My other item was fat as all fuck though:


Definitely at least one cat head’s worth, with baby cat head of butter. 

Pufferbelly Station rules so hard! Look at that cinnamon roll! What would you pay for that cinnamon roll in the Bay Area? $5 maybe? Here it’s just some piece of shit they throw in there on your $10 menu item. They probably have hundreds of these in the back, just going to waste, tossing ’em to the rats. And it was actually a really really good cinnamon roll. And you know what made it even better? When the assistant is sleeping on the dipster you can have your way with it:


Sweet AND Savory Frosted! 

Assistant was actually sleeping a bit too hard on the massive bowl of gravy, so I had to step in there and pump that fucker like I was a farmer pumping groundwater in Modesto:


*forehead not that big in real life

The Assistant did report that the biscuits were truly recipe-buying worthy. I tasted them myself and goddamn were they fluffy and buttery.

So yeah, what more is there to say? Just don’t order the french dip and watermelon (didn’t think that was a thing but I guess it is):

pufferbelly review



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