One of our intrepid readers found THIS gem out in the streets of Canada. Turns out the penguin suit wearing squares up high at Pizza Hut hypomegasupercorp are fans of this tubmlr?! 

We’re in it for the butter… not the fame.  


Breakfast taco, god damn. That’s breakfast sausage, blueberry waffle, and bacon inside a pancake and covered in maple syrup. Had two of these for dinner because breakfast food is the best food and I don’t know how much is too much. For the record, it’s two.


Yes, that is a fried egg on top of my hand made burger! No store-bought patties here :^D #LifeGetsButter (Taken with Instagram)

Reblogged from kids are dumb

Warning: Don’t let this happen.

Reblogged from Not Real Life

Best advice I can give you is stop making average breakfast sandwiches and just start piling breakfast things together. Like picture a full plate with two eggs, toast, and some bacon with a side of more bacon and then cram that shit together. Something that’d make Ron Swanson proud.

It might not look like a lot but from the bottom up:
-fried egg
-layer of bacon
-a second fried egg
-another layer of bacon



I will eat this whole bag. And im not even sorry. (Taken with Instagram)

That’s the spirit!

Reblogged from crushkilldestroy.

Bam! Dinner is served. Popcorn can be a meal if I say so. They said that the shit was already buttered in the bag but I didn’t trust them so I melted some in the microwave and poured it over top of it all. Double butter is better than suspicious butter.


"What the HELL is that?" you’re asking yourself right now. "And where in the world is it being sold?!" 

Sometimes, when you’re grown, you get bored in the city you live in, and you wanna fly to another city for the weekend and go out to a comedy club with your best friend. Then after spending three hours downing beers (because you have a job and can afford beers) and laughing your friggin’ ass off with your buddy, you get hungry! So you stumble, guffawing and back slapping, out of the comedy club at 1:30am (because you have no bed time) and ask some of the other laughing drunk grownups where to get food. The other grownups you ask know you aren’t from there, and they wanna show off some disgusting and nonsensically unique monstrosity they are proud to call a “local tradition”. They send you to a place called House of Georgie and Sorentino’s Pizza (they just call it “Gorgie’s” because they are local and don’t understand how fucking AMAZING the name “House of Georgie and Sorentino’s Pizza” is. I mean, drop the word “Pizza” from the name and you’ve got a FANTASTIC name for a gay brothel!) and tell you to buy GRAVY PIZZA!

THAT SHIT WAS GOD DAMNED DELICIOUS! It was one time when I didn’t mind eating pizza with a knife and fork. I used that knife and fork like the skilled, dexterous adult that I am to make sure I didn’t waste a single DROP of that DELICIOUS and PERFECTLY SPICED, BUTTERY GRAVY! Then when I had one honkin’ bite of the very centre with a perfect full slice of peperoni and a mound of gravy laden cheese left… I picked it up with my hands and scarfed it down my neck like the triumphant hunter gatherer Man that I am! 

When you grow up, fly to Ottawa, and eat Gorgie’s Gravy Pizza. Life Gets Butter.


Bacon sandwich. Ten pieces of bacon and lettuce on toasted, buttered bread. I don’t even know how long ago I ate this but my mouth is still salty. I think I’m probably at my sodium intake for the week and I don’t even care because my entire apartment is filled with the delicious aroma of bacon.

The best part is that this isn’t even a meal, this was just a snack.