Pleased to meat you.

As it turns out, there are still some Rally’s Hamburger joints that avoided the mass conversion to Checker’s Hamburger joints, whatever that is. Not that it really matters, because – much like underwear – a Big Buford is a Big Buford, no matter where you get it, which means it is some kind of horror-sized mystery burger you can shove down your gullet and wonder why it smells the same coming out as it did going in.

Oh and if for some bizarre reason you don’t feel like eating 2 giant patties of 100% pure USDA terror, then there’s always the “Cheese Champ,” Buford’s lil’ cousin, to fall back on.

Bone ape tit!

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.