Edible Brooklynite: John McSwain

The Jihadis among us talk of the promise of a Paradise complete with 99 black-eyed virgins. It's a nice lure but eternity with a bunch of hardline buzz-kill fundamentalists sounds like a perpetual pain in the ass and that's not a pun aimed at middle easterners' purported predisposition towards homosexuality. Though perhaps that should be a concern. I mean, how else could there be that many virgins left over to begin with?



Owning a patch of Paradise filled with nubile innocents sounds great except for a few years of awkward missionary sex. You'd need patience and a helluva sense of humor and there's only one guy I know enlightened enough to turn that scenario into nirvana, the perpetually effervescent John McSwain. This tall Floridian drink of water, with a bourbon back, has his own vision of Paradise, the Cheeseburger tattooed on his arm. So if McSwain can manage to die in Jihad and there's no swine in his burger recipe, looks to me like we have redefined heaven. And with plenty of burqa'd carhops to spare, the prospect of Paradise is looking better one bite at a time. Lets just call it McSwain's VirginBurgers and everybody willing to die is welcome.

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PS: If you Jewish guys wanna get in on the virgin land rush, we can '86 the cheese.