Other than one drunken craving for steak quesadillas in the summer of 2007, I haven’t eaten Taco Bell since 2002. I’ve had Wendy’s once in the past two years, no McDonalds since I tried to soak up a hangover with an extra-value meal in 2004 and ended up sicker than I was from the booze to begin with, and no Burger King since at least 2001.

That all said, I’ll be eating at least two roast beef sandwiches slathered in horseradish sauce and a sizeable order of fries at Lion’s Choice as I pass through St. Louis today on the way to the Lake of the Ozarks, then probably two more on the return trip home.

Moving away from the Lou at 13 was probably the best thing that could have happened to my developing taste buds because Lion’s Choice would likely have done a pretty awesome job at fucking up my semi-healthy eating habits.