This is Wing Bowl.

A radio station stunt created a decade and a half ago to placate Philadelphia Eagles fans, whose team almost always sits out the big game. It’s actually a bacchanal — a beer-drenched, stripper-laden, crack-of-dawn orgy that has become a local institution, the city’s version of Mardi Gras.

Think of it… Philadelphia Mardi Gras where chubby guys eating chicken wings show you their tits. Is this what America is coming to? I think the answer is a big fat yes.

Now, there may be some of you who don’t know what competitive eating is. Perhaps this is because your brain has finally had enough of the stupid shit that’s going on in America, and you just didn’t have room for one more. Who Wants To Marry A Midget was the final straw for your grey matter, and a little door closed inside your mind. And on that door was a little placard that simply read: “Enough.”

But the midget show has long since been cancelled, so make some room up there, because we’re gonna explain this, ahem, “sport”, to you. A bunch of people sit at a table and they see who can eat the most in the shortest amount of time.
Yep, that’s it. Oh, there’s variations – like sometimes it’s about speed. You put a hundred hot dogs in front of people, and see who can eat them the fastest. And sometimes it’s about quantity; you have a near limitless number of hot dogs available, and the last person standing wins. Yep, this Gastronomicon is the, ahem, “sport” of competitive eating.

So why do I keep calling it a sport? Because in the same way that a bunch of rednecks suping up their rides and turning left for four hundred miles is a sport in this country… competitive eaters get to call themselves athletes too.
Think I’m pulling your chicken leg? People, I’m more serious than Condoleeza Rice at a Klan Picnic.

Yep. Go to IFOCE.com – that’s the International Federation of Competitive Eating, and there, on their “about us” page, they have the following sentence: “The IFOCE helps to ensure that the sport remains safe, while also seeking to achieve objectives consistent with the public interest – namely, creating an environment in which fans may enjoy the display of competitive eating skill.” That’s right, eating until your type-two diabetes kicks in… is a sport.

By the way, I highly recommend you go to the IFOCE.com website if you ever want a pure example of something put together with a complete lack of irony.

It’s got all the world records and everything. Like Sonya Thomas, who ate 8.31 pounds of Armour Vienna Sausage in ten minutes. Or Erik Booker, who ate four pounds of corn beef hash in one minute, 58 seconds. Or Don Lerman, who ate six pounds of baked beans in one minute, 48 seconds. Actually, old Don is a bit of a tragedy. Shortly after eating all those beans, he stood too close to an open flame and well, when all the smoke had cleared, he left a crater the size of a VW Bus.

You know, shortly after 9/11 there was a lot of talk about “why they hate us.” And by they, I don’t mean midgets. And don’t I mean they in the truest American sense of the word…. as in people who are darker skinned than you.

Truth is, I don’t know why the Islamic nutjobs hate us, but all of this competitive eating stuff tells me that there’s some potbellied kids in Africa with flies zipping around their heads who SHOULD fucking hate us.

All I can say is thank God they don’t have ESPN 2 out there on the plains of the Serengeti, or right now instead of Osama Bin Laden, we’d be looking for some Sally Struthers village baby shaking his malnutritioned fist at us and clicking in anger, which of course would roughly translate into: Hey… America… how about some of those fucking chicken wings you chubby ass motherfuckers?

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This entry was posted on Thursday, December 20th, 2007 at 1:24 pm and is filed under Blog, Rants . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.