Okay, here’s a new segment I’m going to try out, and it’s called Crazy Visitor Emails. I got the idea from our radioactive friends over at Heat. Eat. Review. Let me know what you think of it in the comments.

I wanted to do this because every so often The Impulsive Buy gets emails from people who are either looking for a particular product, wondering if a particular product was discontinued, or want complain about a product. It sounds normal, but these people think The Impulsive Buy is either the actual company they’re trying to contact or affiliated with the company. We at The Impulsive Buy like to call these people, “Those Who Shouldn’t Have Access To The Internet Because They Don’t Know How to Use It.”

Below is an actual email from a visitor who thought The Impulsive Buy is part of the company they are trying to contact. Along with the email is the reply I have thought about sending, but decided against doing so because I’m afraid that they’ll think the company is actually sending them an email back, which will probably lead to another email.

The name has been changed to protect the ignorant.

From: Martha
Date: October 25, 2006
Subject: ZIPLOC DOUBLE ZIPPER BAGS

I JUST RECEIVED A FREE SAMPLE OF THE ZIPLOC DOUBLE ZIPPER BAGS, IT CAME WITH MY LOCAL PAPER. WHAT A RIP. HOW DARE YOU SEND A “SAMPLE” THAT CANNOT BE TRIED. HAVE WAY DOWN THE BAG THERE WAS A PERMANENT SEAL. YOU KNOW, I ALWAYS BOUGHT ZIPLOC BAGS BUT BECAUSE OF YOUR CHEAPNESS I AM SWITCHING TO GLAD BAGS. YOUR THE LOSER.

The reply I wanted to send:

Dear Martha,

First off, I would like to recommend that you get your keyboard checked, since it seems that your caps lock key is stuck or maybe a paw from one of the dozens of cats you own is on the shift key.

Thank you for your email. At Ziploc, we take all emails we receive seriously. I’m sorry that the sample you received was, as you said, “A RIP.” Please let us know what local paper you received this sample from and we will purchase that newspaper company, fire all the employees, burn the building down, and then piss on the ashes to make sure that you will never receive another defective sample from that newspaper ever again.

We at Ziploc really hope that you don’t switch over to Glad bags, because those folks over there aren’t really Glad bags, they’re really douche bags.

Thanks again for your email.

(Editor’s Note: When reading this review, please turn your internal reading voice into the voice of a crazy elderly person.)

Oh, I remember a time when water was just water. Oh my, how it has grown over the years. I remember a time when we didn’t get water out of a faucet or a bottle. Instead we would lower a bucket into a well and drink our fill using our cupped hands. That water was so refreshing, except whenever the town drunk would urinate into the well after a long night at the local tavern.

Oh, those were such different times back then. Simpler, if you will.

Oh, I remember those days when humans and forest animals would get along and come together every night to sing jolly melodies and tell adventurous tales of Lewis & Clark’s expedition across America with their grizzly bear companions, the Berenstain Bears and Fozzie Bear.

Oh, those were such wonderful times back then. Peaceful, if you will.

Oh, I remember when we would have competitions with each other to see who could climb to the top of the tallest redwood trees in the forest. Little blue men that called themselves Smurfs would cheer us on with the chant that went like this, “Smurf. Smurf. Smurf.” Then whenever we reached the top, we would say hello to the horned winged horses that circled around the treetops waiting for a rider. From the top of the trees we would leap onto the backs of one of the horned winged horses and whisper the magical words “giddy up” in its ear and it would take us to a magical land filled with edible gingerbread houses, roads paved with chocolate, and rivers flowing with apple juice.

Oh, those were such entertaining times back then. Merry, if you will.

Oh, I also have memories of wooing fair maidens at the local tavern. I would put on my finest Mongolian silk suit, which I purchased for ten dollars from a man of Oriental persuasion. I would drink a few ales to raise my courage so that I may bring myself to converse with the fair maiden with the most amount of teeth using words of poetry equal to a Shakespearian sonnet, like “Your ample busom widens my eyes, reddens my cheeks, and raises my groin.”

Oh, those were such lovely times back then. Charming, if you will.

Oh, what magical well does this Kellogg’s Special K20 Strawberry Kiwi Protein Water come from? Is it the same place where those horned winged horses come from? It’s much more refreshing than the urine-tainted water from a well, because it has a decent light strawberry kiwi taste, but the texture of it was oddly kind of gritty, like licking a dirty Smurf for psychedelic purposes.

Oh, just like fair maidens at a local tavern, it isn’t sweet, and it shouldn’t since it only has eight grams of sugar. If you’re drinking the Kellogg’s Special K20 Strawberry Kiwi Protein Water, you’re probably not drinking it for the sugar anyway, you’re drinking it for the five grams of protein it has, which is more than half the amount of protein in a cup of milk,

Oh, milk. That brings back a memory when we used to suck on a cow’s udder for nourishment and to quench our thirst when the local drunk would urinate into the well. We would lie under Bessy the Cow and suck on one of her teats for hours, while watching the clouds and horned winged horses go by.

Oh, those were the days.

Item: Kellogg’s Special K20 Strawberry Kiwi Protein Water
Price: $1.39 (16-ounces)
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Decent light strawberry kiwi taste. Not too sweet. Only 50 calories per bottle. 5 grams of protein = 10% of daily allowance. 8 grams of sugar per bottle. Licking a dirty Smurf for psychedelic purposes. Sucking on Bessy the Cow’s teat. The magical land filled with gingerbread houses, roads of chocolate, and rivers of apple juice.
Cons: Gritty texture. Not a good source of other vitamins and minerals. A cup of milk has more protein. Excessive use of “oh.” When the town drunk would urinate into the well.

I’ve been thinking about changing the Impulsive Buy a little bit.

For years, I’ve been doing a long format review, which was great when I was unemployed, had no girlfriend, and had no life, because I could post three or four reviews a week. But now that I’m employed, still have no girlfriend, and still have no life, it’s been hard to post more than two reviews a week.

I try so many products every month and get many requests to review a number of products, but at a rate of two reviews per week, it’s impossible to review everything I buy. In order to change this, I’ve been thinking about doing much shorter reviews, perhaps less than half as long as they are now.

But I’d like to know what you folks think. Should I stick to the long format and continue to have two reviews a week or should I try doing significantly shorter reviews and possibly have 3-5 reviews per week.

Please let me know in the comments.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto!

On behalf of all the monsters out there, I just want to thank Monster for finally making a mint specifically made for monsters. I’m sure all monsters, whether they be zombies, gargoyles, werewolves, vampires, Frankenstein, Cookie Monster, or supermodel Naomi Campbell, are finally happy to have a mint that we can call our own.

Oh, you didn’t know I was a monster?

I thought the hairy arms, hairy legs, and fangs gave me away, but I guess you thought I’m just a really hairy Asian guy.

In reality, I’m a werewolf. Don’t worry, I don’t go around mauling people…just homeless ones and those who come to my door to sell me something. I’d show you a video I have of me walking around topless, but you would probably think that you’re either watching a National Geographic special or the Kitty Scratching Post Channel.

Also, the movie Teen Wolf starring Michael J. Fox, is loosely based about my life in high school, and no, I did not receive any royalties.

Each of the roughly dime-sized minty High Intensity Monster Mints are just as curiously strong as any of the Altoids mints I’ve had and their texture is smooth, unlike the chalky Altoids. That minty breath freshening goodness is perfect to help cover up bad breath after we monsters eat things like onions, human flesh, peanut butter, human blood, and garlic…oh wait, in the vampires case, definitely not garlic.

The sugar-free Monster Mints come in two flavors, the cinnamon-flavored Intensely Spicy and minty High Intensity, which don’t really sound like flavors at all, more like settings for a 25 cent vibrating bed in a sleazy motel room you can rent by the hour.

Despite its ability to help mask the dreaded blood breath, there’s a major problem with the High Intensity Monster Mints…its price.

At the Neiman-Marcus-like price of $5.99 per can for about fifty mints, I thought they would do something more than freshen my breath, like turn me into a normal human being or bring peace among monsters and human so that we may no longer need to fear torch-wielding mobs or silver bullets, both of which are truly the dreams of all monsters.

We monsters don’t want to hurt. We just want to be loved.

The High Intensity Monster Mints are about twice the price as other comparable mints and definitely out of the price range for those monsters whose jobs are to either terrorize villagers, eat the brains of living humans, suck the blood out of unsuspecting victims, or abuse assistants, because those don’t pay very well.

Cookie Monster is probably the only monster who can afford it, but as all monsters know, he’s a fuckin’ sellout. He wouldn’t be making the bank he’s making now if he continued to be what he originally was, the Cooking Monster, a master human flesh chef who was train in the culinary arts at the finest schools and was known for killing his own fresh ingredients.

Cookie Monster is like Larry the Cable Guy, they’re both fake. Cookie Monster may seem to have a limited vocabulary that consists of just “Me want cookie,” but he actually can speak FIVE languages, including Latin.

Who the fuck speaks Latin anymore?

Anyway, the High Intensity Monster Mints maybe strong enough for a monster, but made for those monsters with monster wallets.

I’m talking about you, Cookie Bitch!

Item: High Intensity Monster Mints
Price: $5.99
Purchased at: CompUSA
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Sugar free. Strong mint. Good at masking blood and human flesh breath. Peace between humans and monsters. Being human.
Cons: Super damn expensive for mints. Flavor name sounds like a setting for a vibrating bed. That fuckin’ sellout Cookie Monster. Vampires and garlic. Being Naomi Campbell’s assistant.

Just like anger turns Bruce Banner into the Incredible Hulk and alcohol turns Mel Gibson into a ragin’ racist, I recently found out that driving a convertible turns me into an asshole.

Although thankfully it didn’t turn me into a super prick asshole, like Simon Cowell is with tone deaf American Idol hopefuls.

I didn’t choose the convertible, it chose me, thanks to the free upgrade courtesy of Budget Rent a Car. It was the first time I’ve ever driven a convertible, and it wasn’t just any old convertible, it was a RED Ford Mustang.

I don’t know about you, but I think a red Ford Mustang convertible is a total chick magnet, although not so much when I’m driving it and definitely doesn’t even come close to attracting the women as effectively as either Brad Pitt or George Clooney in a loincloth, or if they’re a lesbian, Angelina Jolie in a loincloth.

The only other memory I have with a convertible was the time when I was with an ex-girlfriend in high school and we threw a couple of live crabs onto the back seat of a tourist’s convertible who conveniently left their top down while shopping. I guess even being around a convertible will turn me into a prick.

Anyway, once I placed myself into the driver’s seat of the convertible, I instantly had the urge to be an asshole. As I revved the engine, it sounded like it had the enough power under the hood to easily make up for my physical inadequacies and insecurities, like most assholes have.

I thought about using that power to burn rubber in the rental car parking lot, which would’ve caused a cloud of smoke and an aromatic “fuck you” in the scent of burnt rubber, but I couldn’t do it because my car had an automatic transmission, which makes it kind of hard to burn rubber. Although, even if it did have a manual transmission, just like my penis when I’m in bed with a woman, I wouldn’t know how to use it.

Since I couldn’t burn rubber, the next asshole-ish thing I wanted to do was pick up chicks and finally be able to use the pick up lines, “Hey baby, I just put the top down on my ride, but now I’d like to put your top down” or “Hey cutie, how’d you like to ride something red, smooth, and fast, but I’m not talking about my car.”

Unfortunately, after driving around for a little bit, it seemed like all the chicks were at work, which reminded me the reason why I needed a rental car in the first place, because had to travel to another rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for my job. My destination was only a few miles away from the airport, but because in the convertible I’m an asshole, it felt good to take a little detour so that I could be stylin’ AND profilin’.

As I drove with the top down, my sunglasses on, and a smug look on my face, I wanted to play some slammin’ music that would make everyone look in my direction and see how much of a badass I was, but unfortunately I only had my Slow Jamz CD with me.

Even my hair was being a prick and wasn’t taking shit from no one. My stiff gelled hair did not waver as the wind tried to blow them down like the big bad wolf facing the pig’s house made of bricks. The wind huffed and puffed but could not bring my Viagra hard hair down since I use enough gel in my hair to make it meet U.S. Consumer Products Safety Commission standards for bike helmets.

Sure driving a convertible turns me into an asshole, but there are some positive things about driving one, like not needing to use the air conditioner, being able to let the sun’s rays tickle my skin, and possibly being able to drive around Miss (insert beauty pageant name) in a parade.

Item: Driving a Convertible
Price: FREE
Purchased at: Budget
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Total chick magnet. Free upgrade to convertible. No need for air conditioner when top is down. My hard gelled hair. Stylin’ and profilin’.
Cons: Turned me into a smug asshole. Having only a Slow Jamz CD. Possible sunburn. Rain when driving a convertible with the top down. The smell of burnt rubber. My pick up lines when driving a convertible.

I thought the new Rockstar Zero Carb Energy Drink would be as bad as plastic surgery Axl Rose and Buckethead Guns ‘N Roses, but surprisingly it turned out to be Axl, Slash, Izzy, Duff, and Steven Appetite for Destruction Guns ‘N Roses good.

It’s surprising because most of the zero and low-carb foods I’ve tried over the years have ranged from Clay Aiken nauseating to Scott Stapp solo album atrocious, which, if you’re keeping track at home, is worse than Creed bad.

For example, the low-carb and low-taste Carb Well Golden Crunch Cereal was so bad it was like I was chewing on anything made by the Ying Yang Twins, in other words, it was bland and uninspiring. The Skippy Carb Options Peanut Butter was like spreading Paris Hilton’s album on top of…um, well she’ll spread her album or herself on anything.

The Rockstar Zero Carb Energy Drink is one of the few low-carb products out there I like very much. As a matter of fact, I prefer it over the original Rockstar Energy Drink, just like I prefer the New Monkees over the old Monkees.

It’s currently my favorite energy drink, having bought about a dozen over the past month. Its berry flavor was good, it was pretty easy to drink due to the lack of carbonation, and despite the sucralose, I was surprised that there really wasn’t a strong artificial sweetener taste, like most “low-carb,” “sugar-free,” and “diet” energy drinks have.

As we all learned either in biology class or on Sesame Street, carbohydrates are broken down in the body and release energy for our bodies to use when running a marathon, robbing a bank, or doing the Electric Boogaloo.

At first I thought an energy drink without any carbs would be disappointing like Metallica without the long headbanging hair, No Doubt without Gwen Stefani, Harry Connick Jr. having a song without the word love in it, a 2 Live Crew album without big booty bikini bitches on its cover, or women not throwing their panties on stage at a Barry Manilow or Tom Jones concert.

However, the Rockstar Zero Carb Energy Drink made up for its lack of carbs with a bunch of the typical energy-creating herbs and vitamins with funny names.

Inside its 16-ounce can there’s 240 milligrams of sweet, sweet caffeine; 2,000 milligrams of sweet, sweet taurine; 200 milligrams of sweet, sweet green tea extractives; 50 milligrams of sweet, sweet L-Carnitine; 50 milligrams of sweet, sweet yerba mate leaf extract; and a bunch of B vitamins. It’s got enough energy goodness to either keep awake a college student cramming for their biomolecular fission class midterm, keep alert a World of Warcraft junkie spending his or her entire weekend trying to get their character to level sixty, or make Andrew W.K. normal.

Item: Rockstar Zero Carb Energy Drink
Price: $1.75 (16-ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Good berry taste. Zero carbs. Low calorie. 240 milligrams of sweet, sweet caffeine. 16-ounce can. Getting a character to level sixty in WoW. No strong artificial sweetener taste. Guns ‘N Roses before Use Your Illusion. Sesame Street.
Cons: Tom Jones and Barry Manilow not having panties thrown at them on stage. Ying Yang Twins. Guns ‘N Roses after Use Your Illusion.

Just like The Rocky Horror Picture Show, AMC Pacer, and the Grateful Dead, the McDonald’s McRib has a cult following.

Although the McRib’s following isn’t as dressed up or gay as those who follow the Rocky Horror Picture Show or isn’t as stoned as the Deadheads, but the McRib cult probably has a much wider ass than all of the other cults combined.

Currently, the McRib is on its McRib Farewell Tour II 06, which when it ends, means the McRib will no longer be offered on the McDonald’s menu.

Now I don’t know about you, but when I see Roman numerals after the words “Farewell Tour,” it makes me a little skeptical that this is the last hurrah for the McRib. After all, if it’s the McRib Farewell Tour II, there apparently was a Farewell Tour I, so there might be a Farewell Tour III, since Roman numerals have been used to keep track of long-running series and events. For example, there have been XL Super Bowls, XXIII Wrestlemanias, XXVIII Summer Olympics, and XXX Asian Poontang videos.

(Editor’s Note: Here’s a quick handy guide to Roman numerals if you’re not familiar with them: I is one. V is five. X is ten. L is fifty. C is one hundred. D is five hundred. M is one thousand. So Asian Poontang XXX is really Asian Poontang 30, but looks much more masturbatable as Asian Poontang XXX.)

Another reason why I expect to see the McRib in the McFuture is because of the petition on the annoying McRib website to save it. Although if I have learned anything from signing petitions, it’s that they aren’t very effective at making things happen, but it’s a great way to find out the address and phone number of the hot chick who signed it right before me.

The McRib I tried recently was the first one I ever had and it will definitely be the last one I have, even when the McRib Farewell Tour III rolls around in 2008. For those of you who haven’t had the opportunity to eat a McRib, it consists of a boneless piece of pork, dipped in some kind of tangy barbeque sauce with pickles and onions in between a special McRib bun.

The boneless pork was slightly rubbery and the barbeque sauce was not so tangy or tasty. Although, if you look at the picture above, it seems like most of the barbeque sauce ended up on the box it came in instead of the sandwich, causing its bland taste. The barbeque sauce also ended up on my fingers, shirt, and the crotch of my pants, which would’ve been trouble (or fun) if I owned a dog. Also, I’m not too sure why there are pickles in it.

Due to its blandness and messiness, I don’t ever see myself joining the McDonald’s McRib McCult. If I had to choose between joining the McRib McCult or a cult that involves wearing matching baby blue jumpsuits with matching black Nike shoes and drinking a magical fruit punch that “puts me to sleep” so that I can be taken up in a flying saucer to meet Ldlfjadlrdoiueoriadfij (pronounced Frank) and be married to fifty virgins beyond the Gates of the Shining Starlight, I would probably choose the cult with matching baby blue jumpsuits, not because I would meet Frank or the fifty virgins, but because the magical fruit punch would probably taste better than the McRib.

Item: McDonald’s McRib
Price: $4.59 (Value Meal)
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Boneless. AMC Pacer. Magical fruit punch. Asian Poontang XXX.
Cons: Rubbery pork. Barbeque sauce wasn’t so tangy. Bland like a CBS sitcom. Messy like the money shots in Asian Poontang XXX. Napkins required. The McRib is overrated. The addition of pickles. McRib website is annoying. Petitions.

I want to go on record saying that the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste is the most Fergalicious-tasting toothpaste EVER.

The Colgate Dora the Explorer Toothpaste has a good fruit flavor and the Kid’s Aquafresh and the Crest Wild Expressions have nice bubblegum flavors, but all of them pale in comparison to the flavor of the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste.

I swear it tasted like candy! If it were a candy, its tart green apple taste would be all right, but since it’s a toothpaste its taste rocks.

It felt like it was made up of nothing but sugar, because it was kind of grainy like some of the whitening toothpastes out there, but I don’t think the graininess did a good job of cleaning my teeth. There was also no foaming action with it, which was surprising.

Its great taste has made me want to brush my teeth more than once a day. If they made a floss that tasted like this, I would definitely be flossing more than the once a year I already do now. If they made a mouthwash that tasted this good, I would be drinking it down hardcore like I was a freshman at a fraternity party.

Although I will admit, it maybe a great tasting toothpaste, but it definitely is the worst cavity preventing toothpaste EVER. Actually, I don’t really think it did any cavity prevention at all. As a matter of fact, I think it did the opposite and I expect my teeth to fall out soon.

But now that I think about it, that would explain why the word “squeez” in its name is missing an “e” at the end of it. I believe the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste used itself to brush itself, which caused the “e” to either fall out or rot away.

Actually, now that I think about it even more, the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste might be helping me prevent cavities by giving me cavities, because if all my teeth rot away, I can’t get cavities on them ever. Plus, if I don’t have teeth, I don’t have to floss. Bonus! It seems like the ultimate cavity protection.

This toothpaste totally blows my mind, even though I found it in the candy section of the convenience store.

Unfortunately, it only comes in a small 1.5-ounce travel size tube, which is small enough to take on a plane without it being confiscated by the TSA, but not big enough for the huge teeth of both actress Julia Roberts and motivational speaker Tony Robbins.

I also wish the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste would do a good job of freshening my breath, which would totally make up for the future loss of my teeth. Seriously, how am I going to attract the ladies if I don’t have fresh breath? I don’t have looks, personality, or two eyebrows to make up for it. Sure I could find a woman who is blind, deaf, and lacks the sense of smell, but there aren’t many of them around.

Oh cruel world, where is thy Helen Keller to fill thy empty heart?

The bottom line is that the Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez toothpaste would probably make a decent candy, but kind of sucks as a toothpaste.

Item: Wonka Green Apple Sweettarts Squeez
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: It’s Fergalicious-tasting. It tastes like candy. Not too tart. Tube size is perfect for travel.
Cons: Its lack of cavity prevention is a dentist’s nightmare…or dream. Doesn’t freshen breath. No foaming toothpaste action. Grainy texture doesn’t seem to clean teeth. Tube size not big enough for people with big teeth. Found in candy aisle.