(Don'tcha just wana kiss that fucker?)I get goose pimples every time I see that sign of Senor Pollo Campero smiling with his arms wide open... As if he wanted me to embrace his bosom and nibble on his teet. If you want to get the full experience, you have to go to one that is in a Latin area (there's 2 locations, so figure it out)... Nothing says authentic than a room full of cowboy hats, belt buckles bigger than the grill on my car, screaming babies and tortillas on the floor. Fuck yeah!
Let's get to the sombreros and pinatas, shall we...
(Look at that delish poontang, drools)Fried Chicken - Do y'all remember the look on Vincent's face when he opened up that briefcase in Pulp Fiction? Yeah, well, when I opened that box of chicken, it looked like Pollo Heaven. Shit was not as pretty as Popeyes, but it tasted like a dirty whoreslut with a muffin top and I tore her legs and thighs apart like Mike Tyson in heat... No relation to Tyson chicken. The skin is crispy and thin, the meat was juicy and fucking delicious like your father's mistress.
Black Beans and Rice - Look, it's like ebony and ivory, salt and pepper, Sammy and Dean, me and Stevie are peachy keen. The combination just works, go with it. MLK, Jr. would be crying tears of joy on this union.
Coleslaw - Yeah, it's funny, I know. I got this because every other side contained beans. I know they're supposed to be good for you and all but if I fill that pouch up with too many different types of fiber... Mexican oven, anyone? Shit... Ruffage was aight, stick to what y'all know... Chasing chicken.
Horchata - Tasted like powdered milk and full of HFCS... Another sip and I'll get the IBS. Horsecrapa. I guess I'll have to try the grill chicken next time... Nah, fuck that shit, it's my money and I'll eat what I want to. If Popeyes was across the street, I would be in big twouble, then you will know why this chicken head crossed the road.
Burp.
Squirt.
3 Stars.
5254 Jimmy Carter Blvd
Norcross, GA 30093
(770) 446-5777
www.campero.com/
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