A juicy beef burger

There are many things to wonder about celebrities; what they do on a daily basis, what they like, what they don’t, how they work, why they do it. Often, particularly if said celebrity is a model or a visually striking human being, tabloids record their eating habits in minute detail. While talking about Metal, I never considered a gastronomic conversation to be very fruitful; after all, what to good Metalheads eat but meat, what do they drink but alcohol? (The exception is when there is absolutely no money, and every free meal comes as a gift from heaven).

The Bass Drop Deluxe a.k.a the 808Burger from Death Metal Baboon. It will take you "down for a week, shitting mighty solids."

Yet these details seem to remain in the Earthly realm of us lowly Metalheads (Though there are attempts to educate us in terms of Metal meals. Just look at Deamonstealer's Headbanger's Kitchen). After all, fame seems to create a picky personality. Indeed, great egos become demanding and particular. So as you rise through hall of fame, your taste will become more, say, delicate. Or sophisticated. Though I’d just call it vain, really. I would have thought that Metal Gods would be, as opposed to TV celebrities, fairly normal on their eating habits. Don’t we always see, in videos, our good friends drinking copious amounts of beer? And I remember seeing, somewhere, an image of Mustaine (or some other famous Metalhead) in a KFC.

Now we know why it happens.

But alas, I was deceived. In a Blabbermouth article, the guys Whitesnake have been revealed in their real personas; delicate princesses with a stomach made of silk. I really shouldn’t be surprised—cock sucking needs to be fed delicately. In essence, David Coverdale is a spoilt baby who cannot digest onions or broccoli, who needs “mineral volcanic water from Fiji” and Bulgarian wines.

For all that care, he still looks as any other grease-eating pig.

It is, however, with great satisfaction that I continued reading only to find out what Judas Priest prefer. Às opposed to their Glam counterparts, Halford and the band believe in chilli and tobasco and an unlimited supply of chocolate. If debauchery and indulgence are the archetypes of Metal, chocolate fits the latter category.

Once, an acquaintance described the habit of eating spice as “absolute pain. Spiciness,” he said, “is only a sensation of pain.” Well! The Priest dabbles on sheer brutality then!