The early teenage years of my life were a gastrointestinal nightmare of Lovecraftian proportions; unnamable, greasy horrors lurked and slithered through my vital organs on a daily basis. It was not uncommon to find me spending entire weekends eating nothing more than McDonald’s double cheeseburgers, five per meal, my young and virile gut swollen with dubious meat stuffs. However, those days are past me; I am no longer a young pup; I am old, cranky, and my digestive system doesn’t seem to work quite right. I have now reached a compromise: I will eat the scientifically delicious food, but only in moderation.

Why do you need to know the dull, needlessly detailed history of my eating habits? Because this article is about my experiences with tackling the ominous Wendy’s Baconator, and I presume that, since you are on the internet, you think nothing of eating a Baconator. Perhaps you eat several Baconators at once and they are stacked on top of one another, perhaps your jaw unhinges and you are able to stuff the entire thing in your mouth at once like Norville “Shaggy” Rogers. You will read this and scoff at me for being intimidated by a mere ¾ pounds of meat, but know this: I am a man who eats normal things like salads and ¼ lb hamburgers, and this will not be easy for me.

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Tags: battlestar galactica, dicks, eating, horror, Michael, michael shoving meat into his mouth, Nonfiction, vorophilia