... where I'm joined by comic and fellow shitty food enthusiast Jeff May. Our main order of business: get a bunch of people to try the greatest awful food item of all-time and tell us how much they love it. I am, of course, talking about ...

We're talking about a sandwich that comes back around only when pork prices are low. In other words, you can't eat one until the monetary value of the life of one of God's cutest creations has plummeted enough that McDonald's slaughtering them in mass makes financial sense. That's already pretty grim, and it doesn't do a thing to change my stance on this most wonderful of fast-food treats.

Yes, I get that it barely tastes like and definitely doesn't look like any meat item in existence. Sure, fashioning the patty in a way that makes it look like there used to be bones in there has the unfortunate effect of making it seem even less like real meat.

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They don't have to do this, you know? Be thankful.

Right, the "barbecue sauce" tastes like it has turpentine in it.

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You probably have too much stomach lining anyway.

Indeed, fuck onions.

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So much.

I agree with your position on all of those things, but when they come together under the same roof, magic happens. That's how everything at McDonald's works. You wouldn't put the dehydrated version of their onions on anything but a McDonald's cheeseburger, but damn if they don't perform well in that setting.

The McRib is no different. It's a bunch of individually awful components that come together to make something special. It's like the underdog team winning a championship of sandwiches. You don't expect the McRib to prevail, but it does anyway. I don't eat the McRib for the taste, I eat it for the inspiration.

Also the taste, though. It's really great.

That was the 1980s, though, when lawlessness was the only rule of product labeling. It was a simpler time when Chicken McNuggets were mostly man-made material and we didn't give a shit because we didn't know any better and they tasted like paradise. There's no telling what Kraft was up to in the name of getting a flavor leg up on the competition, but their wacky claims about the science and nutrition behind their food eventually earned them a stern warning from the Federal Trade Commission.

Whatever it was they were doing, it still works to this day. Test it out for yourself sometime if you don't believe me. I'm focusing on Kraft Singles here because they are the most direct path to proving that brand's dominance. You don't have to cook them. You don't have to put them on anything. You just have to struggle to undo that confounding envelope each one is lovingly packaged in without leaving two-thirds of the "cheese" frustratingly wedged in the crevices and enjoy.

The "dairy" equivalent of childproof packaging.

Don't get me wrong, they cook up a mighty fine grilled cheese and make a great addition to sandwiches of any nature, but they hold up just as well as a standalone snack food, provided you're a fan of delicious flavor.

Now, after you've proven that to yourself, try it again with some off-brand cheese slice. You will taste the difference, and you won't enjoy it. Don't ask me to explain why. I'm not a food scientist, I'm just a fan of a good slice of pretend cheese.

That said, the traditional varieties, your grandfather's Lunchables, if you will, still stand as one of the greatest achievements in on-the-go meal technology and deserve to be respected as such.

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Pioneer.

There are those among us who would argue that using the word "lunch" in the name is a stretch. Others might make claims about having outgrown Lunchables around the same time instant ramen noodles lost their appeal.

That's precisely the point where you should stop listening to everything they say. Those ramen noodles don't lose their appeal just because your station in life no longer makes them a necessity.

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That's especially true now that science lets us cook them in half the time.

Lunchables are no different. There's all kinds of shit you can eat for cheap. If it was just a matter of survival you could eat a bag of rice like a disaster-relief recipient. You don't, though, because some cheap foods are better than others. And when it comes to hassle-free lunch options, Lunchables are better than most.

If I had one wish right now, I'd ask for the ability to look every single one of you dead in the eyes as I say the following words: "Hooters chicken wings are fucking amazing."

Listen, I don't give a fuck if you don't believe me. Be suspicious of what motivates me to eat there. All of that, it is of no concern to me. If you can't appreciate a Hooters chicken wing, that's your cross to bear.

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You're tasty too, buffalo shrimp.

For what it's worth, I wouldn't care if that place was called Bananas and the wait stuff was just dudes in Speedos. I would throw down on those chicken wings with the exact same intensity and frequency as I do right now.

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Translation: I'd still just go there to watch sports occasionally.

The secret is the flour. I mean, you can definitely order them without breading, which makes flour seemingly less important. You can also visit the ocean without ever getting in the water. What's the point if you're not going to immerse yourself in the full experience? Also, the term they use for chicken wings without breading is "naked." There's absolutely no way to say that word out loud in a Hooters without feeling like the creepiest motherfucker on Earth. Just order them breaded like a real American and avoid the unnecessary discomfort.

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A little modesty never hurt a chicken wing anyway.

Also, and I understand that there's a stigma attached to doing so, but you're going to have to eat them at the "restaurant." Breaded chicken wings to go are a disaster. The transformation from dream to nightmare is not a slow one. You need to get in, eat that chicken while the eating is good, and then get the fuck out of there before anyone you respect sees you eating at Hooters. It's the only proper way to go about it. The part where you might get spotted leaving a Hooters like some kind of degenerate just makes it all the more exciting. It's like having sex in public, except with chicken.