A few years ago, I’m not sure why but a discussion around a frydaddy came up in email exchanges between a few friends and I. I don’t remember much of what was discussed – better than a 99% chance that it was all very, very stupid – other than how the conversation ended. One of us had gotten a frydaddy, and he offered this one bit of advice, “Guys, never ever deep fry a grape.”

When I picked myself up off the floor from the side-splitting laughter at the scalding carnage I imagined he suffered, I started realizing my good friend’s curiosity was only the tip of the deep fried iceberg. We as a people aren’t going to stop until we’ve tried to deep fry every fucking thing on earth.

At this point, I think I’ve grown to accept ridiculous things like deep fried butter, deep fried pizza, deep fried Mars bars, and anything else the fucking Scots have succeeded in battering up and submerging in boiling grease.

And because we as a country can’t ever let the Scots win at anything other than whisky and golf courses, here come the four deep fried horsemen of the American apocalyptic culinary nightmare.

Deep fried beer

Deep fried Coke

Deep fried Kool-Aid

Deep fried margarita

What the fuck is the matter with you people? This is why we can’t have nice things, America. What the fuck is this perplexing obsession with deep frying liquid? Fuck butter, at this point, I’m pretty sure the next step will be deep fried oil. Some fuckhead – better than average chance he’ll be from Texas – is going to find a way of taking a massive scoop of canola oil, and he’ll find some clever way to smother it in batter (presumably using a gun or something) and fry that shit up. It’ll be the biggest thing at a state fair, these shitheads will be all proud of themselves, and they’ll gorge on deep fried balls of cooking oil.

Mmmm, can’t you just taste that golden delicious flavor as it coats your esophagus in a warm, soothing glow? You can, can’t you, you sick pigs.