Good fucking god, Jack's topping ideas are horrid. *None* of his suggestions are even remotely sensible, even if you're stoned/drunk and are desperate for something to eat after a long night out. At this point, his brain must be nothing but scar tissue, plaques, and tangles within a standing pool of brackish cerebrospinal fluid.
To add to the burgersperging...Five Guys is my favorite option when I don't want to do all the work (since there are no In-N-Outs near me), but I usually keep things simple as far as toppings go. I also like creating special sauces by mixing mayonnaise with things like Dijon mustard and red wine.
I love a nice carmelized onion burger with some homemade bacon/onion jam. I make it with brown sugar and Worcestershire sauce.
Delicious. And if I want to get back to my roots, I make a Greek burger with sautéed spinach, tzatziki, Kalamata olive spread, and a decent quality slab of feta.
I'm pretty sure you can hear Jack rip a fart near the end of his gud GT review (1:01).
Must be hard to live with half your sphincter paralyzed.
Makes one wonder how brutal it is when Jack and Tammy are home without anyone around, and feel compelled to 'let it all hang out.'
Back before his strokes, Jack probably gained a lot of joy in forcefully ripping big ones and laughing. Probably sounded like when one vigorously unfurls a section of duct tape...
Now? As
@Tiresome posits, he probably lacks the muscle control to do that anymore, so he passes what I refer to as
idiot farts. They probably seep out wet and slowly, with no discernible beginning, middle, or end.