Sure, the name Gourdough's is synonymous with overabundance, but who knew that their almost religious adherence to the ethos of excess extends to their ... ahem, royal residence? Go ahead, and sit on the throne in the ladies' loo. (You don't actually think we had the energy to pop a squat once we began to digest that "Big Baller" doughnut burger, did you?) There it is, right in front of you, a freakin' barge of toilet paper. Seriously, it's a case lot of rolls stacked as if to say, "Friend, we will never leave you wanting. Ever." The fluffy white cylinders luxuriate on a long-ass basket worthy of floating Moses down the Nile or keeping the Christ child warm in the manger. Which is exactly what they are concocting just on the other side of that wall: infant-sized mounds of masa and sugar served perchance with a wedge of lettuce? Some deep-fried bacon? And dared to be called a "salad"? Bastards. But don't hold it against them. Gourdough's only wants to keep you satisfied. And if the doughnuts the size of your face don't prove it, the bulk pack of TP will.
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