Mmmm...banality

Scientifically formulated for advanced platitude hydration and hackneyed osmolality, Gatorade X-Factor, Rain, and Fierce will quench your thirst for bromides.

Also available in Old Chestnut flavor.

Haiku reviews - '80s horror

I caught a couple of '80s horror movies recently thanks to Netflix and beer. Here are my concise and tranquil reviews.

Ghoulies 2

I liked it better
When you popped out the toilet
The first time around

Sleepaway Camp

There is a tiny
Spoiler that I could mention
But I'm not a dick

Lifestyles of the rich and constipated

Apologies for the crappy photo. Teehee.

Anyways, I've put together a brief questionnaire to help you determine your place on the poopability meter.

Ahem. Which of the following applies to you?

1. I can’t poop because cheese is a big part of my lifestyle.

2. I can’t poop because of some pills I’m taking.

3. I can’t poop and it really frickin’ hurts.

4. I can’t poop because I have a medical condition beyond my inability to poop.

5. I can’t poop because I have a medical condition that requires me to take pills wrapped in cheese and it really frickin’ hurts.

6. I can poop.

Stick some pork in me, I'm done.

I am a big fan of all-copy ads that feature nothing more than a quick headline alongside a logo, or a product, or simply the brand colors. Like the Tide campaign from several years ago (eg, Escape from Thousand Island).

Of course, if the line isn’t terribly inspired or clever or short, then you wind up with the Snickers campaign. Oops, wrong crappy ads. I meant the Snickers campaign. Shit, dammit. I mean, it’s really bad. But now I’m actually talking about… Lloyd’s Barbeque.

Before I get to the rather tepid headlines, I just first have to point out the body copy, which, to Lloyd’s credit, is nice and concise. Bravo. Too bad the sentence is:

“Ready to heat and eat right out of your grocer’s refrigerated meat case.”

Aside from the vaguely Dahmeresque aura surrounding that sentence, it seems like they’re omitting an important step: bringing the meat home and putting it in your refrigerator. Did they want us to just pocket-nuke the meat on the spot and eat it at the store? Were they afraid we wouldn’t know to look for it at our grocer’s? Did they just really want to say “meat case?”

Anyway, to the headline. “Feeds five. Unless we’re talking teenagers.”

Methinks they forgot to add “nyuk nyuk nyuk.” In fact, if they could do an insert, with an elbow that pops out of the magazine and pokes you in the ribs, that’d be even better. It’s a good joke though, because of the truth at its essence: Everybody knows teenagers eat tons of bucket meat.

Other lines in the campaign include:

“Makes five hearty sandwiches. That’s four for you, one for someone else."

Get it? Cuz after you’re done chugging your third helping of high fructose corn syrup, you’ll still be peckish. So you’ll cram four chubby fistfuls of freshly disinterred meat into your piehole, and your wife and kids can fight to the death for that last sandwich.

“My recipe for perfect BBQ: First heat, then eat.”

Delicious sounding, right? I mean, Lloyd knows it’s hard to resist thrusting some gelatinized pork byproduct directly from a plastic tub into your slavering maw. But if you’d just be patient for, say, 45 seconds of microwavey goodness, then that meat will glisten with sweat like Richard Simmons’ dayglo orange cankles.

In retrospect, Lloyd has definitely covered gluttony and sloth. I’m looking forward to his fresh take on lust and wrath.

Bonus joke: If you eat a bunch of this stuff, and then at night, when you’re trying to sleep, but you can’t, because you’re lying in your own bucket-pork-induced flop sweat, you can sing to yourself softly, in your best Phil Collins voice: “I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lloyd, oh Lloyd. And I’ve been waiting for this moment since haaaalf past fiiive, oh Lloyd, oh Lloyd…”

Hey-o! How’s your bucket pork this evening?!

Factose intolerant

Think high fructose corn syrup is bad for you? No, you being a fat pig is bad for you! 

See, I was flipping through this magazine, and I found this wonderful PSA paid for by the…um…Corn Refiners Association. Well okay! I mean, the corn is refined, right? Let’s see what kind of facts we can dredge up from the bottom of the cereal bowl.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup is natural.

Fact: So is staphylococcus aureus.

Fact: Staphylococcus aureus can cause bumblefoot in birds of prey.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup has not yet been proven to cause bumblefoot.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup is nutritionally the same as table sugar.

Fact: Table sugar has never been linked to diabetes, acne, insomnia, cavities, or AIDS.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup has the same number of calories as table sugar.

Fact: Obesity just means there’s more of you to love.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup should be enjoyed in moderation.

Fact: It is impossible to truly enjoy anything in moderation.

Fact: There is high fructose corn syrup in almost everything, including this blog.

Fact: High fructose corn syrup can’t be all that bad.

Fact: That last fact was paid for by the Corn Refiners Association.

Fact: Bumblefoot.

Jewel is here to help

It's good to know that in these trying times, we can always rely on a surfeit of shelf talkers to help guide the way.

Missed opportunity: a Big Relief sticker on the metamucil.

Pitchfork Music Fest - Sunday (Mazlin Edition)

Okay, so basically I’m doing this review as a favor for my Dad because he can’t shut up about his blog. I’m like, ‘Dad, I could count the number of your readers on my fingers and toes’ and he’s like ‘Not true. You can’t count.’ So, that kind of put an end to that argument. Anyway, here’s my review, if you even care what a baby thinks about indie rock.

The afternoon – Apparently Blitzen Trapper is supposed to be great and all. Whatevs. Anyway, I have a nap fail early in the day, so we miss them. Am I supposed to care or something?

The ride over –I have my Elmo close by and I’m ready to rock out with my blocks out.

The Walkmen – Everyone around me appears to be enjoying this band, but I can’t hear because of the apple hat that I got from Miss Amanda and the giant pink headphones I got from Miss Nanette. I play with some of my blocks and eat some crunchy-melty things, so I guess I have what qualifies as an okay time. I’ll probably check out The Walkmen if they’re still together when I’m five.

My gear – Stylish, so stylish. I think I’m out-hipstering most of the hipsters here. God, now that I think about it, everyone here is so old.

M83 – This band is awesome. They sound just like the kind of music that you’d hear soundtracking the Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, etc. It’s the sound of a freshman crush, awkward and off limits, like butterflies in the chest of a fourteen-year-old. Can’t say I know what any of that means, but it sure sounds good, just like M83.

My feedbag – During M83, I eat strawberries through a mesh bag like my parents think I’m some kind of farm animal. Whatever, strawberries are good, I’ll act like a horse if that’s what it takes.

Grizzly Bear – The first song sounds AWESOME. And then my Dad drags me off into the car. My number one anticipated band, and I’m whisked away like I’m an enemy of the state. I wanted to hear Easier. I wanted to hear Cheerleader. I wanted to hear more people talk about how cute I am. But noooooo...

Flaming Lips – I’m in my crib long before they go on. But if you listen closely, you might still hear me singing something off the Soft Bulletin. What a great album.