DBD 1.25.12 In which I completely and totally without exception finish the running into the ground of the Jumbaco joke

I've always felt like I'm a bad American. I don't follow the directions of commercials well enough. While other patriotic Americans were out trying to find the beef or inexplicably buying insurance through GEICO, I would barely even got milk.

I felt like I had to do more. So, when we all became obsessed with Jack In The Box's Jumbaco, I knew I had no choice, but to actually go out and do the deed. One man CGB Jumbaco Night. So, I stopped by Jack In Box, a place that I have actually barely been in this millenium. Back in the 90s, I would go to Jack all the time. If the friday night kegger was broken up, everybody would meet up at Jack In The Box to regroup.

I was excited to see what I would encounter there. What was new in this milenium? Did they have robots taking your order? Was it still pimply faced teenagers pretending to work hard?

I was surprised to find I barely even had to interact with humans. They have a ordering kiosk that is all electronic. A touch screen. I quickly ordered ajumbo jack cheeseburger and two tacos. I could modify my order, if I wanted. But I didn't. I wanted the real Jumbaco experience. I wanted to do it the right way. I'm not here to take any short cuts.

Because this wasn't about me. This was about guy with his hat turned to the side. This was about black guy in vest. And this was about all the red blooded, god fearing Americans totally and completely obsessed with the genius irony of the Jumbaco ad:



My generation is obsessed with irony as compared to genuineness. Things that are genuine, people genuinely enjoy. That might seem like a STUPID sentence, but things that people enjoy ironically, they do not genuinely enjoy. They enjoy them because of how ridiculously stupid they are. The ironic mustache was cool 5 years ago, because of how UNBELIEVABLY stupid it looked. And as somebody who rocked the ironic mustache in 2005, I looked stupid. SO DELIGHTFULLY STUPID! Now, people wear mustaches and they are wholly ronic. Delightfully ronic. And they look good!

I think this stems from growing up in a time of total peace and general plenty. While people in their individual lives have problems, my generation overall has had very few problems. And when everything you could ever really want is taken care of for you, you feel detached from the world. When everything is essentially done for you, you dont experience a "real-ness" to the world. You yearn for a "real" experience and obsess over a fake one.

That's why my generation's ego is reflected through the ever increasing exclusivity of things like food trucks and the real legitimate ethnic restaurant. And when 9.11 happen, the stunning "real-ness" of it reflect the absolute stupidity of our American Apparel lives. But that is beside the point here. The point is that the first part of the Jumbaco ad is so shittily bad in that eye-winking, self-aware way that it pushes all of my buttons. My jaded, emotionally detached buttons. I had to have one. I had to. Nothing could stop me. Except for common sense. Or any modicum of self-control. Or discussing this plan with any other person first. Any other person.

Fortunately I had none of those and when I got my food, I went to a dark corner of Jack, so nobody could see me. I truly do have the concept of shame. It just emerges at odd, embarrassing times. I am so cute sometimes.

I constructed my Jumbaco and took a photo to show the world my majesty. The Eighth Wonder Of The World. BEHOLD!



It looks nothing like the commercial, but this wasn't the first time I'd seen a photo of a Jumbaco (Rishi posted a link to somebody else who did a real one), so that was expected. What wasn't expected was how difficult it was to eat it.

The hard shells of the tacos made it difficult to get at the hamburgers. I had to eat the majority of the tacos before I could get at the burger. And by that point, the burger was falling apart. My hands were a total mess and the little paper on my food tray was covered in detritus.

But I ate the whole thing eventually and finally had accomplished my life's goal (consisting solely of the last week) of eating a Jumbaco.

And then I felt emptiness. Not physically, because I was actually quite full. It's a lot of food. I also bought a chocolate cake dealie. But spiritually and emotionally, I felt empty. I had done it. I had eaten the Jumbaco. And all there was to do was head back home, upload the photo to Facebook and try to make it my cover photo.


So, I felt even MORE emotionally empty than normal. And that is saying something. But we learned something today. The Jumbaco from an ironic perspective is great. The Jumbaco from a real world perspective, like the ironic mustache and super tight t-shirt, kind of sucks.

The opinions expressed in a FanPost are, in every way, reflective of the opinions of every California Golden Blogs Marshawnthusiast. Moreover, they are reflective of every employee of SBNation, including Tyler "Blez" Bleszinski.

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