The Phallic Road Trip

Our craziness hit an all time high today: we had Taco Bell for lunch and Taco John’s for dinner — disastrous.

Both were located in Montana, with Taco Bell in Butte (just a funny coincidence) and Taco John’s in Whitefish. Whereas both left me satisfied and feeling A-ok, the same cannot be said for John.

For the past hour or so, John — more or less — has been in pain. Quotable quotes include: “F-cking Taco John’s, man,” and “My hole is burning.” What makes the situation even more promising — outside of John blowing an O-ring — is the fact that we are planning on taking a 9-mile hike through Glacier National Park tomorrow morning.

I’ll be sure to keep you posted in case John takes the saying “one with nature” to the next integer and “drops a two in the Great Outdoors.”

Since we have only just begun our journey, I thought it’d be wise to inform you on a little something known as the “The Clean Plate Club.”

For those of you that weigh under 150 pounds, have small appetites, or are just plain sallies, “The Clean Plate Club,” is something of which you have probably never heard of. Taken directly from Wikipedia: “Clean Plate Clubs were part of a campaign started by U.S. president Harry S. Truman that encouraged school children to pledge to eat everything on their plate at mealtimes, in order to conserve limited post-war. Although most nutritionists now discourage this practice, these clubs were founded in a large number of elementary schools, and were promoted on several children’s television shows.”

This club is still built upon large foundations of individuals who routinely eat everything on their plate — with a slight exception of garnish and some vegetables — when they have any breakfast, lunch, second lunch, pre-dinner, dinner, or post-dinner.

The Clean Plate Club that I know and love is one that I have been a member of since 1996 when I was a young, but husky 10-year-old boy. My family has numerous members that hold membership, as it was a tradition passed down along with numerous helpings of turkey on thanksgiving and burgers on the Fourth of July.

Now that Phil, John, and I are on our quest for phallic glory with our trip, it’s important that we document the possible new member in the form of a one, John Bruer. John has held numerous past titles dealing with overconsumption, mostly in the fields of reality television, beer, and women (occasional man) but this is his first taste in the realm of food.

In Green Bay, John continued his apprenticeship under my lead, devouring 2 eggs, 2 pancakes, and 2 pieces of bacon at breakfast, in a matter of minutes. As the day continued, he ate a totally unnecessary, early afternoon six-inch Subway melt accompanied by 2 cookies. Fell short in his Wisconsin quest though, when he didn’t finish his sides during our BBQ dinner, but the kid has some potential. At the same time, it brings a tear to my waistline to see such promise in a formerly very thin man, as he follows in my heavy footsteps.

I hope that this post was a nice refresher for some former members, an informative introduction to those with small appetites, and a reminder to all those current members, that despite lame attacks by the media to stop overeating, our dreams and appetites will never die.

As Day 1 comes to a close, the three of us lay on our beds with our bellies full from an eventful day.

Our “gutty works” got started with a traditional big Midwestern breakfast of pancakes and French toast with the Beefsman (my father). Being a person that bases his day around food, I usually follow the mantra that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

However, being that we are on a road trip shaped like a penis, its only fitting that our dinner of brats, hot dogs, and sausages would be the highlight of our day.

Today’s game was at Miller Park in Milwaukee. Located in Wisconsin, a place I refer to as the land of meat, cheese, and beer, I came in with high expectations. Just like Russell Branyan’s 465-foot home run in the sixth inning, the food was a sight to see. Accompanied with grilled onions and sauerkraut, the brat was well worth the years it shaved off my life expectancy, and the pounds it added to my waist.

As John said, “I haven’t had anything this big, warm, and juicy in my mouth since that time … ” Regardless of Bruer’s past Friday nights, the food left nothing to be wanted — and like the hometown Brewers, it was a big win.

Tomorrow’s agenda: cheese curds, more bratwurst and a side of Tums.