Sweet, savory, and very soggy. Like Seattle. Or semen.
West Hollywood is the last bastion of geometric tastefulness in this transvestite of a world. It is FTVS’s place of comfort when we occasionally lose sight of the profundity of our existence. Roscoe’s House of Chicken’ n Waffles, flanked on Gower between Sunset and Hollywood Boulevard, is one of the four (4) places in Los Angeles able to offer an orgiastic mix of waffles and chicken covered in gravy, onions, butter, table syrup, and Cajun Chef Hot Sauce.
The mix of savory and sweet merges the best of both worlds – like penetrating an Asian hermaphrodite (delicious), sans the weirdness of having to explain it to your friends, or worry of acquiring syphilis. The restrooms are kept clean at all times by the hard working and friendly Mexican staff, to facilitate fast regurgitation after the wonderful binge. Indeed, the sophistication and ebullience of the post-meal parade of shit that flows from flesh to porcelain almost rivals the feast itself.
FTVS Rating: Four (4) and a Half (0.5) stars.
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