Let me start by saying that being an official taste tester at any chicken wing festival is a pretty sweet gig, let alone for the “Super Bowl” of wings, the National Buffalo Wing Festival. Free wings, more free wings, and even more free wings. For two days, I can let my gut hang out and it’s alright. Everybody’s doing it. If you don’t, you’re not cool. Sounds like the best gig ever, right? Actually, it’s not as easy as you’d think, especially if your New Year’s Resolution is to eat 2,011 chicken wings and you roll into the festival with a 24 x 34 sign strapped to your chest that boasts how many wings you’ve eaten so far this year (1,314 for me). I’ve been hyping up my appearance at this fest for months. It was now time for me to deliver.