Burger King and the possible dissolution of my otherwise happy marriage

Ever since Burger King changed their french fry recipe, I’ve taken to eating their onion rings.

In fact, I love their onion rings.

Now, let me immediately head off some nitpickers here who are apt to say (rightfully so) that “onion rings” is a quite a liberal term since the BK version is a cruel bastardization of the culinary form. If NASA were forced to make some sort of space-friendly minced-onion-with-batter dish, I am pretty sure they’d come up with something much like the BK onion rings. But no matter, I like the way they taste.

I wish, alas, I could say the same for the flora in my gut. They apparently do not like the way BK onion rings taste. I say this because the gas I get from BK onion rings has the peculiar property of still smelling like onion rings once expelled… Onion rings that have been rotting in the nectrotic intestine of a corpse for 6-8 weeks.

My husband is so horrified by the smells that eminate from the nether reasons of his delicate flower of a wife that he has insisted that I cut BK onion rings from my diet. I try to comply. I do try. But you know, I worked it out to a science one time by noting that it usually takes 5 good hours for onion rings to have this effect on me. Sooooo… if I can have onion rings when I know I am not going to be around any friends, relatives, or african violets for 5-10 hours, I indulge. Last night I was casting about for a late supper for myself (he was at a movie) and did the math. Five hours after would have us both in bed snoozing away. Sure, the noxious fumes might burn some nose hairs and shave some years of our life expectency, but we wouldn’t be awake to be bothered. And maybe for once the cat wouldn’t lie on me. So off to BK it was. Large order of onion rings, happily consumed at 9 p.m.

I should point out that I keep no secrets from my husband. I’ve got nothing to hide. Usually. So it felt very funny to me when I found myself burying the bag deep in the trash so he wouldn’t know. But a wife does what a wife has to do to keep the peace.

I wake this morning refreshed and happy. I check to make sure my husband is still breathing. He is. Whew. I walk to the closet and am suddenly alarmed by a rumbling. What’s this?!? I thought during the night our bodies were relaxed and we passed gas at will! Who’d have thought I would have anything left! Oh no!

I fled the house before anyone except the dog was up (his expression was unreadable).

Now it is one o’clock. This is STILL going on. I am stuck in my office. I have had no less than two people ask me if we can meet about upcoming projects today. I have waved them off and suggested another day and acted really busy so they’d leave my office quickly. Little do they know I do so out of concern for their health and for my job.

I see my husband in 4 hours. We have a date tonight. I have four hours to get my body back on track.

If I weren’t trying to clench my buttcheeks together so tightly, my knees would be knocking in fear. Can I sue BK if he leaves me? Can I sue BK if everyone in my office refuses to work with me? When I am penniless and single is any man going to want me? Is any Doper going to want me after reading this?

I still want you, Cranky!


I wish it were so easy to identify the food product that does this to me. Unfortunately last night I maced my boyfriend with an especially rank stink bomb. I’m not sure he’s forgiven me for it yet.

My defense was weak:

Me: poof

Us: “Eeew!”

Me: That’s just wrong. That is just so so wrong.

Him: It’s YOUR butt!

Me: But I can’t control the smell!
So unless any Dopers have the key to flushing out our gastric systems quickly, there may be some more unattached Doper gals out there.
:: makes note to stay away from BK onion rings, just in case ::

Women who enjoy eating foods that make you have stinky farts? Ladies, ladies, if either one of you (or both of you, for that matter) find yourselves rejected by your man because he can’t stand the thought that a woman farts:eek: , then sidle yourselves over to my place and I promise to feed you all the BK onion rings, brautwurst and saurkraut, and whatever else you might happen to like that gives you the winds that you can handle! I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, so I understand that sometimes ya gotta fart, and it ain’t always gonna be pretty.:cool:

Cranky, let me reassure you flatt out that your rectal outbursts do nothing to diminish your charm.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette and blown smoke rings before? Maybe you could close your office door and position yourself ass over teakettle in your chair and “blow” little BK onion fart rings up into the air. Maybe you could even “blow” one inside of another! You could be like the little engine that could going “poot poot poot” through a mountain pass.

We’re with you Cranky.
We think you can, we think you can…

And **Scout, why did I laugh again out loud when I read your poof ?

Let’s hope this Freudian slip makes it into the vernacular.

Ye gods. The BK ringers have claimed another victim.

I have discovered that the best way to cure onion ring breath is what those little Listerine Pocketpak strips, but I don’t know of any way to …

Hang on a minute, I’m off to run an experiment.

Band Name!
Cranky, I hear your pain. Mr. Ujest is constantly affronted, affronted, I say, at the fact that he married this delicate hothouse flower who can …shall we say…let 'er rip and peel the paint with the best of the frat boys. What are we, Elizabath Bennett?
Have you tried Beano and the like?

Maybe a peice of charcoal in your undies :slight_smile:

Ohhhh! I know, a static cling sheet thingie sewn onto the back of your underwear.

Main entry: nether
Pronunciation: 'ne-[th]&r
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from the Old English nithera, from nither down; akin to Old High German nidar down, Sanskrit ni.

Cranky, you’ve got the butt that says “ni”!

Thanks. Now this image won’t leave my head. Ew.

Yeah, the image that won’t leave mine is of the little sooty-faced Mark Lester from Oliver standing behind the lovely Cranky saying “Please Maam, I want more.”

Yet another band name!! :smiley:

This is perfect. :cool:
:eek: <---- in this thread, this smilie should be referred to as the “sooty-faced” smilie.

Cranky, what you need is to drink plenty of full-strength peppermint tea. The quickest, easiest way I know to clear out a nasty flatulence spell. If that isn’t enough, the real peppermint bombs are “Enteric Coated Peppermint Oil Capsules” which specifically target the guts.

Try massaging your nether abdominal region (if no one’s looking), stroking up on the right side and down on the left side. Press your fingertip into the acupressure point that’s located on your midline, three finger lengths below the navel. Preferably out in the middle of a big empty field with the wind blowing. Then let 'er rip!

If you’re not comfortable with a lump of charcoal in your undies… how about a dryer sheet?

Wouldn’t you love to see Anthracite stumble upon this thread.


I agree though. Listerine strips work wonders.

I’m mad still mad that Burger King got rid of their jalapeno poppers, so I take it out on them by buying their onion rings. And I ain’t giving them up no way no how.

You can always try this product . (BTW, the Lady Vor has a similar problem with BK onion rings. No, I haven’t bought her the Under-Ease yet.)


This thread stinks. :wink:

Cranky, this is one of the funniest things I’ve read in a while. Thanks for sharing! :smiley:

One helping of taters will get me a whole week of dirty looks from my hubby.

Hey Tuckerfan since you’re in the same little corner of hillbilly hell that I’m in. I may take you up on your offer.