Chafing Abroad: A Classless American’s Guide To Rome

So a few weeks ago I was lucky enough to take a second spring break and go and meet up with my sister, who is studying abroad in Rome for the semester.  Now I was lucky enough to travel to Europe a few times when I was a fat kid, but sadly I was a dumb American fat kid who had just discovered the glory of Pokemon Red for GameBoy color, so much of the rich culture and history of places like Paris, France were sacrificed in the name of getting my Metapod to evolve so I could stop using shitty “Harden” for every attack.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), I grew up into an average American guy, one who is adequately educated through numerous public education institutions and can remember enough ninth grade history to know that Rome is pretty important for various reasons.  I also saw Eurotrip one time in 2004 so, with “Scottie Doesn’t Know” blasting from my iPod, I departed from Dulles Airport.

In lieu of boring everyone to the point that they slowly jam plastic forks into both their eyes by just talking about the sites I visited in Rome (SICK BRO!) I decided to compile a guide for other American idiots to go over and survive their time in Rome.

1. Wear UnderArmor Spandex as Much As Possible

Knowing that I would probably have to walk for periods of greater than 10 minutes at a time, I knew that chafing on my legs was a definite possibility.  Spandex is a must for pretty much any form of continued movement, but luckily I fucking suck and didn’t bring any.  Big.  Fucking.  Mistake.

On vacations like this, you expect to walk.  What I didn’t expect is just how goddamn much my suddenly active and mobile sister thought was acceptable.  Easily probably walked 4-5 miles a day.  Not only was visible swamp ass a very real possibility, my inner thighs started to look like the victims of a car-bombing in Iraq.  By the end of my second day there, I had to walk like a fucking moron just to alleviate the pain, bringing further embarrassment to America’s already pathetic reputation abroad.  Do yourself a favor and bring a pair of Spandex with you next time you take on the city of Rome. Read more of this post


Getting McGangbanged

Pretty much every fast food chain has its own “secret menu”. Some items the gracious workers will prepare for you, but sometimes your request is just too immoral for their minimum wage souls to handle.  Requests such as…the McGangbang.

The McGangbang has become sort of an internet phenomenon in the last few years.  Many blogs have featured this beast, and as soon as I heard about it, I had to try it.  For those of you without high blood pressure, a McGangbang consists of The McChicken sandwich combined with a double-cheeseburger from McDonald’s.  As both of these items are on the dollar menu, this is a perfect way to satiate your need to not reach your 60th birthday while also being frugal.

Yeah we got Mcnuggets too. Dammit.


As I said before, the McDonald’s employees will refuse to put this all together for you, at least in College Park, MD.  No worries, luckily I’m basically college educated/a man so assembling a sandwich is almost as natural as playing sports and driving for me.  Now other people sometimes leave all four pieces of bread on this bad boy, but in the interest of cutting carbs, I took the McChicken’s top bun off.  Then I threw on some fries and smothered on some sweet and sour sauce.  Yeah, whatever.  The result was this bad boy:



At first bite, you are sort of overwhelmed.  So many flavors hit you at once, it’s hard to tell exactly what you’re eating.  Sort of like if you threw a few types of meat into a blender, thats about all I can say about the taste.  I can compare it to combining different Starburst flavors together, if Starburst were made of over-processed meat and carbs.

Perhaps the best way to describe the McGangbang, though, is from

“It’s kind of like having a threesome with two ugly chicks. While it’s happening you’re stoked, because hey threesome!!! But once you’re finished it kinda sinks in about what you’ve done.”

The agony you will feel in your stomach cannot be accurately described in words.  If you’re a guy, it’s about equal to getting kicked in the nuts with a steel-toed boot.  For the ladies. it’s like getting roundhouse-kicked in your throat.  Is it worth it?  Yeah sure, why not.  Just be sure you’re near a bathroom afterwards.

1.51 Billion Dollars Doesn’t Buy What It Used To

A few times every month, it inevitably happens.  I get persuaded by my fat friends and fellow members of the Fat Council to suffer through a 20 minute walk to Stamp to engage in a food orgy at the campus McDonald’s or Chick-fil-A.  After I fill the cockles of my heart with even more plaque, I stupidly decide I’m in good enough shape to head to my last class of the day.

Of course, being that fast food from Mickey D’s or Chick has the effect of chugging a bottle of Exlax on my stomach, an emergency, terrible dump is in order, with my only options being the dreaded public bathroom.  Now, I’m not a coward(when it comes to bodily functions at least), so pooping in a public toilet is nothing too daunting for me.  And ever since they banned that guy who used to diarrhea all over the floor of the men’s bathrooms from McKeldin, dropping bombs on campus has been a semi-enjoyable experience.  Except of course, for the conclusion…


Hoooollllyyy shit.  I’ve never been to prison, but I can tell you right away that my ass knows what it’s like.  What the hell is UMD’s problem?  With a budget of $1.51 billion, why the tits can’t they buy some toilet paper that is not cut from a sheet of the most jagged, unforgiving sandpaper known to man?  And not only does it have the consistency of sandpaper, it also somehow is as thin as the skin of a hemophiliac.  So not only do you wind up shredded and feeling like you just spent a week sharing a cell with Bubba in Riker’s Island, you also end up with this terrible poo-rape matter all over your hands.   Fucking terrible.

Now, how about instead of wasting money on building gardens on-top of university buildings and funding horrible SGA-related things that nobody will ever care about, UMD puts some money where the sun don’t shine and give our bungholes a break.  We already get bent over by tuition price, housing and textbook pricing.  Let us enjoy the TP at least.

Fat Dump of the Week: Eddy Curry


Pictured: A Professional Athlete
via athletetattoodatabase


Eddy Curry.  Eddy FUCKING Curry.  The name alone should send Knicks fans to the nearest Home Depot to buy the sharpest saw imaginable and immediately saw off their kneecaps.  What is it that the Bockers need right now the most?  (besides James Dolan getting an incurable disease)  Another big man to come off the bench to help out my man Ama’re.  6’11 center who has the potential to put up 20 and 10 on a nightly basis?  Sign me up.  Oh wait a minute…Eddy Curry is a fat piece of lazy shit who doesn’t care about anything besides his half time hot pockets.


As hoopshype points out in this incredibly depressing article, Eddy “Can I get BigMac sauce on my McChicken” Curry has been paid $50 mil since 2006 by the Knicks, while playing only 74 minutes since 2008.  It’s 2011.  Are you shitting me?    That means that toad has made $405,000 per minute played the last 3 years.  Or in Eddy’s mind, 67,500 large Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese value meals.

How did he get so fat you ask?  Simple.  While guys like Danillo Gallinari and Wilson Chandler were working out and generally not being sinkholes of saturated fat in the off-season, Big Eddy was going to the Atlantis Resort, swimming with dolphins an’ shit.



No that is not a doctored photo, thats my man BNiebs with fat Eddy a couple years ago, wet suit and all.  That big idiot with the cornrows was paid over $10 million for the year this picture was taken.  Process that for a second.

All in all, you do have to have some respect for the guy, though.  Dude has made close to $100 million in his lifetime, while mainly leading the league in most $5 $5 $5 deals converted and blocked arteries.  The complete lack of pride certainly needs to be acknowledged as well, as only the most pathetic of fat dumps could really just give up on the fame and glory a professional sports career promises, all in the name of Burger King.  Ironically, Curry will still be doing a lot of shooting for many years to come, though mostly in the form of insulin rather than jump shots.  Enjoy it fucker, you deserve it.