I went to In-N-Out and ordered a cheeseburger. The cashier, a calm young woman named Destiny, asked me a question I did not expect.
"You want that Animal Style?"
I paused.
I did not know what this meant. But a samurai does not admit he does not know. So I answered with weight.
"...Animal Style."
"Cool. So that's mustard-grilled, extra spread, grilled onions, pickles. Yeah?"
I understood now. This was a sacred permission. For one meal, I was being told to put down my manners at the door. To eat the way a beast eats, without shame. I had waited my whole life for someone to give me this order.
"Yes," I said. "I will become the animal."
Destiny did not blink. "...Okay. You want your fries Animal Style too?"
I stopped. Even the potatoes?
"The potatoes also become animals?"
"I mean, they get cheese and sauce and grilled onions, so..."
"Then yes. Let the potatoes abandon their restraint as well."
"...Got it." She was the calmest woman I have ever met. "3x3, 4x4, or just the one?"
I did not know these numbers, but I knew a challenge when I heard one. "How many must I face?"
"It's, like, how many patties you want."
"How many is the most honorable?"
"...Four is a lot."
"Then four. A warrior does not ask for fewer."
She wrote it down without argument. A 4x4, Animal Style, with animal fries. She warned me once, kindly. "That's gonna be huge." I told her I was counting on it.
It arrived. It was a tower. Cheese and sauce ran down my hands the moment I lifted it. There was no clean way to eat it. There was no dignified way. That was the entire point.
I ate it like a beast. Both hands, no honor, grilled onion on my chin, and I have to be honest with you, it was the best thing I have ever put in my mouth.
For thirty years I have kept my manners at every table in the world.
They handed me a burger and told me to be an animal, and I have never felt so free.
So tell me, America.
The whole country knows the secret menu. What else are you hiding in plain sight?
And "Animal Style." Was I eating the animal, or finally becoming one?
The 1896 Raines Law was meant to curb Sunday drinking by allowing alcohol sales only in hotels that served food. Lawmakers assumed this would shut down most saloons, since few had kitchens or lodging. Instead, bar owners immediately adapted, transforming tiny back rooms into “hotel bedrooms” and inventing the infamous “Raines sandwich”, a single, often rock‑hard prop meal that legally qualified a drink as part of a hotel service.
Because the law didn’t require the food to be edible or actually eaten, bars reused the same sandwich for every customer. Some establishments kept one sandwich for the entire day; others reportedly used the same one for weeks. Patrons would order a beer, the bartender would plop the sad sandwich on the table to satisfy the law, and then whisk it away untouched. The whole ritual became a running joke in New York, symbolizing how absurdly easy it was to undermine poorly written legislation.
Ironically, the law ended up encouraging more vice, not less. To qualify as “hotels,” saloons added cheap beds and rented them by the hour, which attracted sex work and other illicit activity. What was meant to be a moral reform became a loophole factory, exposing how creative businesses could be when lawmakers tried to legislate morality without understanding real‑world behavior.
The Raines sandwich remains one of the most famous examples of Americans outsmarting prohibition‑era rules through sheer ingenuity.
Incredible optical illusion demonstrates that when objects are removed from peripheral vision, the brain perceives a slower pace of motion
📹 Akiyoshi Kitaoka
Costco CEO Ron Vachris did the “CEO eats his own product” challenge by destroying a hot dog (and confirms the Costco hot dog combo is staying at $1.50 forever). Legend.
Some police departments in states including Indiana and Michigan have introduced programs that allow residents to resolve minor parking violations by donating pet supplies to local animal shelters. In Muncie, Indiana, officials recently gave drivers the option to pay parking tickets with cat food or litter, which was then delivered directly to the city’s shelter.
The program was created after officers learned the shelter was caring for hundreds of animals during peak “kitten season” and needed additional support. Community participation exceeded expectations, with donation areas filling within days. Many residents also contributed even without receiving tickets.
Organizers say the initiative helps reduce administrative workload while providing much-needed resources to shelters, highlighting how small policy changes can encourage community involvement and charitable giving.
Grain silos are extremely dangerous places for farmers of all ages. The Grain Weevil was built to save lives.
The auger-style robot levels grain in the bin to help break up crusts and bridges, avoid entrapments, and improve grain quality.
@xevekiah I like how the new airport in Kansas City is designed with some restrooms that mitigate this whole issue. There isn't a stall door gap, just like your bathroom at home, and plenty of room to bring your carry-on in with you.