Pomegranate 7UP

Since when has pomegranate ever been festive?

When I think of Christmas, I don’t think about pomegranate, but according to the snowflake covered packaging of the limited-time-only Pomegranate 7UP, it might be the second coming of mistletoe. I can think of many things more festive than pomegranate. People waking up at 3:00 a.m. on Black Friday to wait in line at 4:00 a.m. for a slim chance to get a $399 laptop or $10 DVD player, but when they get there, there’s already fifty people in line wanting the same shit is more Christmassy than pomegranate.

I don’t know of anyone who adds the pomegranate berry to trees, wreaths, or holiday centerpieces. I can’t think of anyone who uses its juice to either permanently stain all their clothes to holiday readiness or to paint a Santa suit on their skin. There also isn’t anyone who thinks pomegranate makes Rudolph’s nose red, adds color to Santa’s cheeks, or stunts the growth of elves, making them so short that I want to punt them through goal posts. So how can pomegranate suddenly be holiday-ish?

When I found out about the Pomegranate 7UP, I didn’t think to myself, “Move over, egg nog, I’m going to get fat off of another beverage this season.” But wait, now that I think about it, how would I get fat off of pomegranate? After all, it’s healthy and full of antioxidants.

Thankfully, the wonderful folks at 7UP have solved this dilemma for me, because according to the ingredients list on its packaging, the Pomegranate 7UP has no pomegranate in it and enough sugar to replace the fat content of egg nog, which will help me if I want to become a shopping mall Santa without the need for a fat suit. I know it says “100% Natural Flavors” on the label, but when there’s no juice in its ingredients to give this soda its flavor, you’ve got to wonder whether it’s as natural as Demi Moore’s face.

There definitely is a pomegranate flavor to it, although it’s kind of light. Its overall flavor is good and not sickly sweet, despite the 31 grams of sugar per cup. However, unless you love the taste of pomegranate as much as I love boobs, I don’t see any real reason to purchase this variation of 7UP. The whole point of putting pomegranate into something is for its health benefits, but when there’s no pomegranate to be found, it’s like a golddigger sleeping with MC Hammer in 1996 and then finding out that he’s bankrupt.

Oh, how I miss Pepsi Holiday Spice.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 120 calories, 0 grams of fat, 35 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbs, 31 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 0 grams of caffeine, and 0 grams actual pomegranateness)

Item: Pomegranate 7UP
Price: $1.49 (2-liters)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tastes good. Not sickly sweet. My love of boobs. Pepsi Holiday Spice. Getting a $399 laptop on Black Friday.
Cons: Seems like there’s no actual pomegranate. HFCS. No sweet, sweet caffeine. 31 grams of sugar per cup. Golddiggers. Not getting a $399 laptop on Black Friday.

REVIEW: Otis Spunkmeyer Strawberry Shortcake Muffins

Otis Spunkmeyer Strawberry Shortcake Muffins

Dear Mr. Otis Spunkmeyer,

I have to tell you that I’m a very big fan. Even though you left the porn industry in the late 80’s, I have continued to follow your work as you awkwardly transitioned from eating muffins to baking them. I assumed that you would have changed your stage name after the career change, but apparently it has not affected your success.

Anyways, I’m writing in to complain about your mini muffins. Don’t get me wrong, they are quite delicious, but they have damn near ruined my life. I like that they are individually wrapped, but this makes it far too easy for me to reach into the box and indulge. Oh, it’s easy for me to say “It’s just one” until I’m in a sugar coma and I slowly choke to death as the wrappers obscure my breathing path. Your chocolate and blueberry ones in particular will almost certainly be the cause of my demise.

Another complaint I have is that the crumbs tend to fall all over the place as I am eating your muffins. You could argue that I shouldn’t be devouring them as I am going 80 on the freeway, but I would tell you that I am a very busy man who has places to be. Alright, maybe I don’t, but it’s still a pain in the ass to try and vacuum your car every time you want a snack. If I were ever to have a hot date, this would be almost as embarrassing as my Spongebob Squarepants floormats.

Finally, the grotesque sight of me licking the paper muffin wrapper and folding it up so I can squeeze the chocolatey innards out with my teeth is something that I don’t need to see. Since the left side of my room is a closet mirror, this is extremely difficult to avoid. The last thing I need to witness is my sorry ass gnawing on what amounts to about a tenth of a cent worth of muffin. I have enough issues as it is. My professors have begun to suspect that I’m stealing their coffee mugs, all of my nights out end up with me walking home naked as a gang of high school kids laugh at me, and the writer’s strike is threatening production of The Office. Nobody knows this, but that’s where 95% of my jokes come from. If my friends were to ever find out that I am an amalgamation of several characters from a sitcom, they would surely leave me to die in a gutter.

As you can see, my complaints thus far have less to do with your product and more to do with my addiction to it. This is why I was very excited to try your new strawberry shortcake muffins. Sadly, they are a bit of a disappointment. If they were anything like your award-winning film Strawberry Shortcake Muffins Volume 6, then they would have been a lot tastier and more sexually arousing. I guess it’s like comparing apples and oranges, though.

I’m going a little off topic; the fruit I’m really here to talk about it strawberry. Your new strawberry muffins look amazing on the box. There are stripes of fruit and pieces of cake on top of the muffin. After realizing that it is basically cake on top of cake, I couldn’t wait to dig in and binge eat the entire box. However, the strawberry “stripes” turned out to be nothing more than drizzles of strawberry-flavored syrup. It’s something fun to introduce to the bedroom, but not something that’s really appetizing. Plus, cake on top of cake is tastier in theory than in practice. Overall, it was an acceptable yet underwhelming strawberry muffin. Have you no shame, Otis Spunkmeyer?

However, you can make it up to me. Attached to this letter is a box of Fleshlights, which I intend to sell at inflated prices on eBay. It would be great if you could autograph and return them, preferably unused.



(Nutritional Facts – 1 muffin – 220 calories, 10 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 mg of cholesterol, 180mg sodium, 31 grams of carbs, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 18 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Otis Spunkmeyer Strawberry Shortcake Muffins
Price: $3.14
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Moist muffins. Individually sealed and wrapped for your pleasure. The idea of cake sprinkled on top of cake. Making money off of autographed Fleshlights. Strawberry Shortcake Muffins Volume 6.
Cons: Extremely sweet and artificial tasting. Not made with real fruit. Potential of mini muffin addiction killing me or ruining my potential hot date. The writer’s strike threatening my social life.

REVIEW: Snapple Juice Drinks

Fuck! Shit! Goji!

I ♥ profanity — probably a little too fuc…I mean, kiwin’ much. It’s so bad that I think I make dirty sailors blush. I can’t help it because using certain four-letter words seem like the only way I can express what I’m truly feeling. When the cops are about to knock down my door, the words, “Oh, snarf” just doesn’t seem right. Or if I’m ever in the heat of passion, the words, “Oooh, baby. You like the way I fudge you?” are probably the least erotic words I could say in bed.

But as I get older, I realize that I need to cut back on my swearing for the sake of my future children and because I’m slowly replacing every noun I know with the word “shit.”

“Did you see that shit?” or “Can you get a shit of shit from the shit?”

So I’ve tried to quit swearing in numerous ways. The first shit…I mean, goji I tried was using a swear jar, putting a certain amount of money in a jar every time I used profanity and donating that money to a worth cause. That didn’t work very well, but some UNICEF kid got really lucky this past Halloween with his orange box. If the commercials on television are correct, I think I gave him enough shi…I mean, goji to feed a third-world village for a year.

Then I figured if I’m doing it for the children, I should surrounded myself with young children and hang out at Chuck E. Cheese. You would think being around easily impressionable young minds might make me want to hold my tongue, but being around hyperactive, annoying children, who do nothing but cry and complain, had the opposite effect on me. Now those children are not only hyperactive and annoying, they also have a few more words in their vocabulary that I’m sure their parents don’t appreciate and I’ve been banned from Chuck E. Cheese.

So now I’m trying to substitute all my swear words with names of exotic fruits and so far it’s kind of working. Why names of exotic fruits? Because they sound like profanity in foreign languages. Guess which of the following words are names of exotic fruits and which are foreign swear words: salak, gunggong, skila, goji, merde, pajuo, matisia, vlaka, rambai, kuso, rambutan, goumari, noni, salaud, luntao, santol, hako, tassepe, kiwi, culone, jaboticaba, putanginamo.

I fuck up…I mean, I kiwi up once in awhile, but slowly and surely I’m becoming less dependent on profanity. How did I come up with this idea? I have to thank the new Snapple Juice Drinks I’ve been drinking, which come in four flavors, but I only tried the Noni Berry, Kiwi Pear, and Goji Punch. The juice drink label is a little misleading since according to the bottles they each contain between 5-10 percent juice.

Each flavor in the new Snapple Juice Drink line has a health benefit. The low-calorie noni and kiwi flavors help with metabolism, while the not-so-low-calorie goji one aids with immunity. So boys and girls, if you want to kill someone, drink some Snapple Goji Punch before you do it.

Oh wait, the other kiwin’ fighting germs-type of immunity.

The 40 grams of sugar in the Goji Punch might not help with either definition of immunity, since sugar is known to weaken the white blood cells in your body. As for helping with metabolism, it might seem a little more realistic since according to the bottle, studies show that consumption of 300 milligrams of EGCG antioxidants per day with caffeine helps boost metabolism and each bottle contains 30 milligrams of sweet, sweet caffeine and 55 milligrams of EGCG.

As for taste, the Noni Berry flavor tasted like the strawberry-kiwi Vitamin Water; the Kiwi Pear flavor had a strong pear scent, but had an equal balance of pear and kiwi flavor; and the Goji Punch tasted like berry, berry watered down berry vodka. The first two were good despite a very slight artificial sweetener aftertaste, while the goji one was really fuckin’ shitty…I mean, kiwin’ shitty…I mean, fuckin’ gojity…I mean, kiwin’ gojity.

Oh, fuck it.

(Nutrition Facts – Noni Berry & Kiwi Pear – Serving Size: 1 bottle – 20 calories, 0 grams of fat, 70 milligrams of sodium, 2 to 4 grams of carbs, 2 gram of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 30 milligrams of caffeine, 55 milligrams of EGCG, and 50 grams of non-sexy exoticness.)

(Nutrition Facts – Goji Punch – Serving Size: 1 bottle – 180 calories, 0 grams of fat, 60 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbs, 40 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 20% Vitamin A, 20% Vitamin E, and 25 grams of non-sexy exoticness.)

Item: Snapple Juice Drinks
Price: $1.19 each (17.5 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Despite being low calorie and containing artificial sweeteners, the Noni Berry and Kiwi Pear tasted pretty good. Sweet, sweet caffeine and antioxidants in the noni and kiwi flavors. Using exotic fruit names to help cut back on swearing. Helped a third-world village this Halloween.
Cons: Not much juice in these juice drinks. Goji Punch has a lot of sugar. My inability to hold back my swearing. Being banned from Chuck E. Cheese. You like the way I fudge you?

Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bars

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen something shimmer like the Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bars. Its glistening reminds me of a sweaty, chiseled beefcake working on his fine, defined, Zeus-like body at Muscle Beach in a spandex bodysuit that hugs every hump and lump on him sexy, tantalizing, glowing sunbathing beauty with curves like a roller coaster in a very revealing Wicked Weasel bikini that leaves very little to the imagination covered in a seductive-smelling cocoa butter suntan lotion.

The Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bars consist of mostly nuts and its shine is probably from the same things that keep all those nuts together in bar form — corn syrup and sugar.

Speaking of ingredients, the number of ingredients for these nut bars are small, like the bow ties around the necks of attractive, well-oiled Chippendale dancers gyrating and thrusting their hips to the beat of dance music causing me to stare at their black spandex pants covered crotches a foxy Hooters Girl uniform that conforms around the voluptuous bodies in them causing their beautiful breasts in the tight white tank top to stretch out the word Hooters, making the owl’s eyes open wider and my eyes stare in a totally inappropriate way at the white spandex covered breasts as I order a platter of their famous Hooters Buffalo Wings.

Each of the two Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bar flavors have only six ingredients. The Peanut Crunch contains only peanuts, sunflower seeds, sugar, corn syrup, salt, and almond flour. The Almond Crunch consists of only almonds, peanuts, sunflower seeds, sugar, corn syrup, and salt.

If you read carefully over the ingredients, you probably noticed that the ingredients for both flavors are almost identical and because of this, both flavors also taste very similar. Each one tasted kind of like honey roasted peanuts, so if you blindfolded me and had a hunky, strong fireman gorgeous, curvy female flight attendant straddle me and feed me each flavor, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

Because they’re made out of nuts, these bars have a good crunch to them, but because everything is being held together with just the tasty adhesives of corn syrup and sugar, they’re kind of fragile. So if I stick it in my fanny pack laptop messenger bag, it will probably break into several pieces as I walk from my car to the office. If it does break, be very careful when opening the foil packaging because nuts will drop.

Overall, I liked the Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bars. They’re tasty, contain healthy fats (polyunsaturated and monounsaturated fats), and each bar has seven grams of protein, which helps if I want to build muscles without going on “the juice” so that I can perhaps one day be a sweaty, chiseled beefcake working on my fine, defined, Zeus-like body at Muscle Beach in a spandex bodysuit that hugs every hump and lump on me.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar (varies per flavor) – 190 to 200 calories, 12 to 14 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat, 0.5 to 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 10 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 to 180 milligrams of sodium, 11 to 14 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 6 to 7 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein, and more nuts than a NFL locker room.)

(Editor’s Note: Cheap Eats and The Message Whore also reviewed the Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch. which means I know of three pairs of nuts who reviewed these nuts.)

Item: Nature Valley Roasted Nut Crunch Bars
Price: FREE (Retails for $3.39)
Purchased at: Received from nice PR folks
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tastes like honey roasted peanuts. Lots of nuts. Crunchy. Shiny. Seven grams of protein. Good fats. No ingredients with names I can’t pronounce. Wicked Weasel bikinis.
Cons: Fragile, like my ego. 200 calories per bar. Both flavors taste similar. Me in a spandex body suit. Fanny packs. Sexual harassment. The use of corn syrup as an adhesive.

REVIEW: Campbell’s Chunky Fully Loaded Rigatoni & Meatballs Soup

Oh, football season — the most masculine, yet homoerotic of all seasons. Think of all the Sundays spent shouting while in the vicinity of drunk and rowdy men. Ponder the countless hours debating whether those feelings you have for Tom Brady are natural admiration or unfettered lust. There is really nothing else quite like it.

For years, the folks at Campbell’s have capitalized on the season’s excitement by using football players to promote their Chunky Soup. I have no problem with sports leagues promoting products, but I can’t quite make out the connection here. After all, this is a brand of soup based solely on the premise that large men enjoy a steaming hot bowl of soup after a grueling practice. Who needs a frosty Gatorade or a sandwich when you can have a boiling hot bowl of soup with processed meats and vegetables that melt in your mouth? While this may seem surreal and absurd, nothing is quite as insane as what they are pitching with the Fully Loaded soup variety.

Apparently Chunky Soup, the soup that eats like a meal, wasn’t meal-like enough to satisfy the hunger of football players after they were done frolicking in mud as rain poured down on them. Instead of wondering who the hell pitches these commercials, I’m going to try to decipher exactly why this thing product is considered soup. I suppose the Chunky Fully Loaded takes after athletes and is a soup on steroids and human growth hormones. However, they have taken their approach way too far and have created a proverbial monster. You see, this is clearly rigatoni and meatballs, and unless I have been mistaken for my entire life, pasta is not soup. In fact, unlike crock pot meals and shepherd’s pie, it’s not even close to being soup. You might as well sever your own testicles and call it chicken cordon bleu. It really makes absolutely no sense.

Speaking of testicles, Campbell’s has finally accomplished what they have always strived to do — give soup some serious balls. While that statement is indeed a terrible joke, it’s also what I think this “soup” is really made of. The meatballs have an abnormally chewy texture that I could only assume mirror the texture of a certain questionable organ meat. Maybe this is to appeal to the people with giant Oakland Raiders vinyl decals and metallic ballsacks hanging from the back of their trucks, but nobody knows for sure. I understand that they can’t use the finest cuts available, but this is bordering on unappetizing and disturbing.

Luckily, I am less than picky about canned pasta and can safely say that I would much rather eat this than Chef Boyardee. The rigatoni is not mushy like many canned pastas and actually has some texture to it. They are also large enough to make me feel like a really big man while I’m eating them, which is probably worth the price of purchase on its own. The meatballs, strange texture and all, are not completely awful and are edible enough. The tomato sauce, which I suppose would be the soup in this case, has actual chunks of tomato and has a good acidic bite that is a refreshing change from the saccharine taste of the tomato sauces in other canned pastas.

What I appreciate most is the fact that the soup has a pop-top lid. Most of the people that buy this type of food do not own a can opener, so I like that they are saving us from the humiliation of stabbing it with a knife and jamming a spoon in to get it open. Even still, I can’t forgive them for completely messing with my sense of reality. When certain things in my worldview become distorted, I can’t help but feel despondent. If I ever go to Olive Garden and get “Fettuccini Alfredo” as the soup of the day, you will know why I tried to hang myself with the noodles.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 cup – 220 calories, 8 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 20 mg of cholesterol, 800mg sodium, 24 grams of carbs, 6 grams of dietary fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 13 grams of protein, 4% Vitamin A, 8% Calcium, and 10% Iron)

Item: Campbell’s Chunky Fully Loaded Rigatoni & Meatballs Soup
Price: $2.00
Purchased at: Ralph’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: A lot of food for a decent price. Rigatoni and sauce taste pretty good. Not mushy. Tom Brady.
Cons: Meatballs have strange texture. Eating soup after strenuous exercise. Raiders fans with truck nuts. Things that aren’t soup being called soup. Trying to hang yourself with noodles.