Tag Archives: Hulk Hogan

America’s Most Insane Fried Foods: Part 5

“MOAR!  GODDAMN IT I SAID MOAR!”

~AFFotD Food Critic, John Goodman

As we’ve mentioned time and time and time again, America loves Fried Food even more than we love Hulk Hogan, and don’t get us started about how much America loves the Hulkster.  The moment you choose to fry a food, you make it unhealthy and therefore delicious, and anytime someone says, “I don’t think you can deep fry that” they are automatically deported back to France and are placed in forced mime labor camps, where they must spend their days wearing white face makeup while they pretend to break and move boulders while trapped inside invisible boxes.  And they totally deserve their fate—when someone asks you if you would eat a deep fried sports car, the correct answer is, “Holy shit, where can I find that!” not “Uh, no, you…you realize that our bodies can’t consume metal, no matter what you do to it, right?”

And as summer approaches, so does State Fair season, which is that magical time of year where aspiring fry chefs look to get middle America as fat as possible without causing their hearts to explode, like some obesity version of Jenga (once things start wobbling you have to wait for it to settle before finishing the piece).  So in that fine American tradition, we are here to clue you in on even more fried foods created to take you that one step closer to just giving up and intravenously pumping melted butter into your arteries between meals.

America’s Most Insane Fried Foods:  Part 5

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Let’s Pretend Andre the Giant is From America

“No more rhymes, now, I mean it.”

“Anyone want a peanut?”

“GAH!”

~Seriously you guys, how good was The Princess Bride?


We at the AFFotD offices often have to swallow quite a modicum of our pride when we’re encountered by foreigners who accomplish American deeds.  After all, you don’t have to be a born American to become a governor of one of the nation’s most populous states.  Or to knock up the help.  So that’s why, when we were watching The Princess Bride in our weekly “watching a chick flick that is actually totally acceptable to watch” night, we figured it was time that we gave proper deference to a Frenchmananoghieipghepwaighpae.

Sorry, the temp we had typing that spontaneously combusted- we have our keyboard wired to set fire whenever something positive is said about people from that…F country.  But yes, we’re here to salute Andre the Giant, who did enough amazing American things in American, that we posthumously have declared him an American.  Because we’re running out of interns to explode, and we want to take credit for him.  So from now on, his birth will be described in “Georgia” instead of “Grenoble, France.”  Because you have no idea how much Andre the Giant could drink.

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