I’m frickin’ tired of The King sneaking up on me.

Doesn’t he have anything better to do? He’s a king. Shouldn’t he be running a kingdom, causing oppression somewhere, or at least being a powerless figurehead? If I had a nickel for every time The King snuck up on me and offered something from the Burger King menu, I would be rich enough to buy a Big Mac.

It was really creepy at first having him randomly appear, but then it was nice having food delivered me and not having to worry about buying groceries. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner he’d just sneak up on me and present me with some form of BK sustenance. The King also knows when to show up for those times other than meals. For example, when I’m at work, I’ll walk out of my office intending to get something from the snack machine, but he’ll just pop out from around the corner and offer me something small like onion rings or a Whopper Jr.

There was this time when I was yawning at my desk and needed some caffeine. Then out of nowhere The King appeared with a Mocha BK JOE Iced Coffee. It’s basically coffee with chocolate syrup squirted in and poured over ice. The slightly creamy drink initially had a strong chocolate taste and then was followed by a weak coffee aftertaste that was probably weak because of the overpowering chocolate. With all that chocolate, it was good, but also a little too sweet for me.

But did it give me a boost of energy? Well, anything with 63 grams of sugar in it probably would.

There have also been times when he brought me food at inappropriate moments, like a Tendercrisp Chicken Sandwich while reading about Bird Flu in Taiwan and a Burger King Kids Meal while watching Dateline NBC’s To Catch A Predator.

After a few weeks, I got tired of eating Burger King and I gained ten pounds, but The King kept sneaking up on me. I asked him if he could bring me something a lot more healthier, but all he did was bring me a Whopper without mayonnaise. Eventually, I went grocery shopping so I could make my own healthy meals instead of eating Burger King food. Then whenever The King appeared and offered food, I’d tell him I already have something to eat. He would then drop his head in disappointment and walk away, but he’d still be smiling.

After several days of rejecting food from The King, things got really creepy.

One time when I woke up, he was frickin’ naked and standing over me. Let me tell you, it wasn’t fun looking at his little prince and two royal guards. That’s not the very first thing I want to see in the morning. Also, I just want to let you know that not only is his face plastic looking, so is everything else.

This other time, I woke up and caught him looking through my clothes hamper and sniffing my boxers. When he saw me awake, he tried to distract me by shoving a Croissan’wich in my face, while sticking a few worn boxers in his pocket. I don’t think that’s a smile of happiness he has on permanently, it’s a smile of guilt.

And I’m not even going to go into detail about the time he introduced me to what I thought was the new BK hot dog.

I’m not too sure what I’m going to do about The King, but he still sneaks up on me and attempts to serve me Burger King food. Maybe it’s about time I serve him a restraining order.

(Nutritional Facts: 380 calories, 10 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 40 milligrams of cholesterol, 290 milligrams of sodium, 66 grams of carbs, 63 grams of sugar, 1 gram dietary fiber, and 6 grams of protein.)

Item: Mocha BK JOE Iced Coffee
Price: $2.09 (22 ounces)
Purchased at: Burger King (or BK for you cool folks)
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Good. Chocolate syrup. Cold. Refreshing. The 63 grams of sugar it contains gave me a quick energy boost.
Cons: Not too much of a coffee flavor. A little too sweet. Having The King sneak up on you. Having The King wake up next to you naked. Having The King sniff your used underwear. Basically, The King is a total perv. The King’s permanent smile.

When I think of Mother Nature, I imagine a little old lady walking on a grassy plain with cheerful birds, bunnies, and butterflies circling around her on a bright sunny day and with a few white lazy clouds here and there.

The setting would be much like the default wallpaper for Windows XP.

With an image like that it’s hard for me to put Mother Nature and energy drink in the same sentence, even though I just did, but believe me it was frickin’ difficult. Energy drinks are for young whippersnappers, not little old ladies who need a cane to walk and need to wear a medical alert bracelet just in case they’ve fallen and can’t get up.

But Coke has brought the two together to make an Acai berry flavored energy drink from natural sources with their new Full Throttle Mother Energy Drink, which has probably the least aggro, extreme, and intense name for an energy drink EVER.

Sure, the name is also kind of oedipus complex-ish and for something that claims to be natural, it doesn’t seem to be organic, but despite all of that, I really look forward to trying it.

[Via:] Energy Fiend

I am a bit wary of buying things that I haven’t seen any advertising for. I tend to feel that the product has something to hide. I don’t know if it’s a nasty side effect, a lack of extreme attitude, or a criminal record, but I am always a bit hesitant. Generally, I never know if I should buy something unless a kid is skateboarding with it or a hot chick is deepthroating it in an ad. These are the things that I think about as I go shopping.

I made an exception with the IceBreakers Ice Cubes because of its novelty factor. This isn’t IceBreakers’s first foray into the world of gimmicky products, so they should know what they’re doing. Anyone remember Liquid Ice and how stupid those commercials with the Duff sisters made you feel? Now that they’re out of the equation, no longer will you question whether it’s liquid, it’s ice, or if anyone gives a damn about your inane queries. It’s all been settled, and ice has apparently won the battle.

IceBreakers Ice Cubes also appealed to me because breaking the ice in a social situation has never really been my cup of tea. This is a big problem in all of the facets of my life. Take philosophy class for example: “According to the rules of Fight Club, isn’t this sentence paradoxical?”

Or pickup basketball games: “Dude, can’t you toss it in? Your balls keep dangling around the rim!”

And especially first dates: “I’ll be honest, one of my guilty pleasures is getting naked in front of a mirror and loudly singing the Pokemon theme song as I gyrate and let ‘em bounce around.”

So I was hoping that these particular IceBreakers would break the streak of bad ones. As I opened the small box, I was immediately hit with the headache-inducing fragrance of fake mint and xylitol. It was not a promising start.

Xylitol is apparently an alternative to sugar that’s supposed to have a natural cooling effect on your tongue. It can also cause nausea and act as a laxative in high enough doses, but the same could be said about almost anything I eat. I’m not going to hold that against it. However, I can’t excuse the fact that it’s a pretty horrible sugar substitute.

Like all of my other icebreakers, these particular cubes failed rather miserably in providing any type of freshness. Not only are they sickeningly sweet, but they have a grainy and unpleasant texture to start. Any cooling effect you’re supposed to get is completely masked. Worst of all, I didn’t even win the damn Singtone contest that I had banked my future on. How will I survive college if people can’t hear my rendition of Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield” every time my phone rings?

Overall, the only thing these cubes have going for them is their convenient shape. Now I can see why there are not seen suggestively licked on billboards. If you are the type of person who enjoys munching on sugar cubes and would like to replicate the experience in gum form, then this is the treat for you. For everyone else, the money spent purchasing these supposed “ice cubes” would be better served going towards some real ice cubes and crushed mint.

Admittedly, that would only lead you to heavy drinking after you figure out that you’re halfway towards a mojito, but I can hardly be blamed for your alcoholism.

Item: Icebreakers Ice Cubes
Price: 79 cents
Purchased at: Circle K
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Extremely convenient shape and packaging. Decent enough after initial grainy stage of chew. Possibility of winning a Singtone. The original Pokemon theme song.
Cons: My icebreakers. Way too sweet and grainy. High possibility of not winning a Singtone and the ensuing disappointment. Letting creation of your own mint ice cubes lead you down path of alcoholism.

Apparently, Japan has really huge balls.

It has produced some of the most innovative products available, like fuel-efficient hybrid cars; the Nintendo Wii; robotic dogs; vending machines that dispense beer, fried foods, or used schoolgirl panties; and Japanese ads starring American actors who need a quick buck due to their decline in popularity.

But, and this is where Japan earns its huge cojones, it has also developed some of the most fucked up products that no other country has the audacity to create, like tentacle anime porn, numerous products for comforting lonely sukebe men, Pokemon, and now the Japan-only Pepsi Ice Cucumber.

Along with Japan’s huge balls, which I think helps keep its islands afloat with the over 127 million people living on its back, I also think these crazy products Japan comes up with are the result of sucking the sake a little too much, if you know what I’m saying. But I can relate to that, because whenever I pound a few ochoko (small sake cup), I also want to do some crazy shit, like reenact the music video for Prince’s “When Doves Cry.”

How can u just leave me standing?/Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)/Maybe I’m just 2 demanding/Maybe I’m just like my father 2 bold/Maybe you’re just like my mother/She’s never satisfied (She’s never satisfied)/Why do we scream at each other/This is what it sounds like/When doves cry

To come up with the idea for Pepsi Ice Cucumber, I’m guessing it took quite a lot of sake, just like it did for all the other crazy ideas for beverages in Japan and this commercial starring Nicholas Cage.

Much like how apple juice can look like beer and urine can look like pineapple soda, Pepsi Ice Cucumber’s green color makes it looks like Cepacol Mouthwash. Its flavor is light, just like actual cucumbers. There’s a slight fruitiness to it, but there definitely is a cucumber flavor to it, albeit artificial, like Paris Hilton holding the Bible.

To be honest, the Pepsi Ice Cucumber was not as bad as I thought it would be. Still it’s slightly gross and weird, but there’s something about it that drew me back to it. It’s like the relationship that Lindsay Lohan and rehab have.

Drinking a bottle was a vicious masochistic cycle. I’d take a sip, say to myself, “Damn, this is kind of nasty,” and put it back in the refrigerator. A few hours later I’d open my fridge, take a sip, say to myself, “Damn, this is kind of nasty,” and put it back in the refrigerator. It took me three days to finish a bottle.

Pepsi Ice Cucumber was available only in Japan, but quickly sold out. Right now, the only way for Westerners to get their hands on a bottle is through the virtual garage sale clusterfuck known as eBay, where prices can get semi-expensive thanks to overzealous capitalism and shipping. Is it worth spending a decent amount of money on this novelty soda?

It really depends on how big your balls are.

(Editor’s Note: Mike’s Blender also reviewed it, but since he lives in Japan, he paid much less for them and in yen.)

Item: Pepsi Ice Cucumber
Price: $24.99 (Three 500 ml bottles)
Purchased at: eBay
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Not as bad as I thought it would be. Slightly fruity. Something about it makes me come back for more. Japan has huge balls. The Nintendo Wii. Japanese commercials with American actors. Hybrid cars.
Cons: Light artificial cucumber taste was slightly gross and weird. Looks like mouthwash. Only available in Japan. The things I do when I drink too much sake. Anything with Nicholas Cage in it.

I’ll admit that my eating habits are less than stellar. Deplorable, if you will. But I am a man who enjoys blaming all of his shortcomings on everyone but myself, so I will proceed to do so. I have had a distorted view of food since I was a small child. My parents taught me that all-you-can-eat buffets were a competition where the only way to win was to eat until you struggled to breathe. That’s how you get the edge over society and get your slice of American pie…or something along those lines, I can’t really remember the logistics of the situation.

This desensitization to crappy fried foods and imitation cheeses led to my current state of junk food codependence. I say “co-” because I feel like I have a lasting relationship with it, though I’m not sure if it’s based on eHarmony’s 29 dimensions of compatibility. High school further dragged me along this path, as the lunches provided were insufficient for rabid dogs, let alone burgeoning minds. I was left with two choices: the salad bar or nachos.

The salad bar might as well have been renamed “Hidden Valley” because everything was just a vessel for ranch dressing. Small amounts of wilted lettuce were laid out like bed sheets for macaroni and potato salads. Jugs of ranch were handed out so kids could mask any nutrients left inside. Of course, bread sticks were handed out for dipping. Ranch was fucking everywhere. Kids became addicted to it. I am convinced that I would’ve been laid if I had the foresight to pour ranch on myself.

I traveled the much healthier road and ended up falling in love with nacho cheese instead. Cheese has calcium in it, right? After rationalizing my addiction, I embraced the smooth, velvety texture of the cheese. It was laced with a hint of spiciness and the glow of neon orange. All of it came together to make a splendid sauce for the stale nachos that went down my gullet at $1.50 a tray. Throw in some pickled jalapeno slices and you’re set for any fiesta, or in my case, a night alone with the Gilmore Girls.

I had missed it in the couple of years since then, but found something appealing as I strolled through the aisles of the cursed entity known as Wal-Mart. It was Rico’s Salsa De Queso Nacho Cheese Sauce. The redundant and convoluted name didn’t strike my fancy, but the promise of molten hot nacho cheese piqued my interest.

I wasn’t expecting much, but I was pleasantly surprised that it indeed came out hot and smooth from the microwave. It was good, too! It still maintained a decent amount of texture and adhered perfectly to the chips. The nacho cheese is actually made with real jalapenos, which is noticeable as you feel a tingle of heat on your tongue upon consumption. It helped me put away a giant bag of organic tortilla chips over a one week period.

The best thing about this product is that I no longer need to rationalize the nutrition value of nacho cheese. Rico’s has done already done that for me, as their stamp boasts “0% cholesterol” and “Good source of calcium.” I’ve already begun adding it to my orange juice and breakfast cereal.

But not everything is muy bueno with Rico’s Salsa De Queso Nacho Cheese Sauce. I really wish I could say something positive about Rico’s lazily-made mascot. Seriously, a fucking drop of nacho cheese? That’s the best they could come up with? At least put a sombrero on him or some maracas.

Everyone knows racial stereotypes make the best mascots.

Item: Rico’s Salsa De Queso Nacho Cheese Sauce
Price: $1.99
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Comes out hot and creamy in microwave. Tasty and cheap as all good junk food should be. Nacho cheese may or may not get me sexually aroused.
Cons: Not all that spicy. Lacks real cheese. Lazily designed mascot without fun Mexican stereotypes. Stretching the truth about nutritional information. All-you-can-eat buffets and their damage to the psyche.

I thought my addiction to clown porn was pretty bad, but my dependency on Glacéau XXX Vitamin Water is worse.

It started out innocently when I saw it at the store and wanted to try it out, because I’ll try anything just once. I thought I’d have some fun and then move on. I didn’t think anything would become of it, because who gets addicted off of something after trying it just one time? But after finishing a bottle, the demons in my head crawled out of my subconsciousness and told me they wanted more. I went back and bought the five bottles left on the shelf and went through those in the next two days.

Then I went to another convenience store and bought them out. Then another. Then another. Quickly, the sweet XXX gold dried up and I haven’t found any since, which has caused me to have withdrawals. Not only have I been shaking and paranoid, there also have been nights when I looked through my recycle bin and pulled out all the XXX bottles to see if any of them had just a drop of that sweet, slightly-watery tasting liquid, that at this point, I would totally suck a dick for, much like other addicts would in my situation.

Maybe now that Coke has bought Glacéau, I have to suck on Coke’s cock to get more of it. I just hope it’s not as thick as a can of Coke or as long as a 20-ounce bottle.

I went multiple times to see my dealer that hangs out at 7-Eleven and asked how I can get more of it, but my dealer, who likes to be called “7-Eleven Manager,” told me that she wished she could get her hands on the stuff too since it sells out pretty fast. She then told me she’s got other Glacéau Vitamin Water flavors that she can sell me that are just as good the XXX, but I told her, “Naw man, I want the real deal. None any of that pussy shit.”

But I may just have to settle for the pussy shit for now, because I’m getting desperate.

O-h-h-h-h, how I miss the feeling I get when those antioxidants are in my bloodstream. It makes me feel so good. The combination of XXX’s sweet taste and molecules that slow or prevent the oxidation of other molecules makes me feel invincible against free radicals. I don’t get that shit with the bitter-tasting broccoli or green tea.

The Glacéau XXX Vitamin Water gets its name from the three antioxidant-containing fruits in it — acai, blueberry, and pomegranate. With a flavor name like XXX, I expected it to taste like ball sack sweat and KY Jelly, but those three fruits form a delicious, sweet fruit punch flavor that I want so badly I would gladly kill for it.

Each bottle has 200 milligrams of sweet, sweet antioxidants, but unfortunately, 150 milligrams of it is Vitamin C, which I can easily get my hands on from any dealer who sells oranges or Sunny Delight. It’s the other 50 milligrams of antioxidants that I want flowing through my bloodstream. Sure, it’s got 13 grams of sugar per serving, but that’s way less than one of my other former addictions, Mountain Dew.

O-h-h-h-h man, I totally need a fix.

(Nutritional Facts Per Serving (2.5 servings per container): 50 calories, zero fat, zero cholesterol, zero sodium, 13 grams of carbs, 13 grams of sugar, zero protein, 100% Vitamin C, 10% Vitamin B3, 10% Vitamin B6, 10% Vitamin B12, and 10% Vitamin B5.)

Item: Glacéau XXX Vitamin Water
Price: $1.39 (20 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Good fruit punch flavor. Lots of Vitamin C. Seems sweeter than other Vitamin Water flavors. 50 milligrams of antioxidants other than Vitamin C. Some amounts of B Vitamins. Velvet Revolver. Kosher. Electrolytes. Healthier than soda.
Cons: Vitamin C is the most plentiful antioxidant in the bottle, which is plentiful among dealers. Hard to find. My addiction to antioxidants. The demons in my head. Contains less than 1% juice. I would suck Coke’s cock for some. My former addiction to clown porn.

Eating the new Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal makes me feel a little more mature, since it doesn’t have either chocolate, marshmallows, or commercials on Nickolodeon. When I eat it in the morning, I close my eyes and imagine myself enjoying it at the dining table while reading the editorial page of my local newspaper, rolling my eyes at the crazy people who take the time to jump on their soapbox and write a Letter to the Editor to voice their opinion about how a pothole in front of their driveway proves that the local government is ineffective. Then I respond by asking why the writer of the letter doesn’t call the fucking pothole hotline, which was set up by the local government.

Then I imagine apologizing to my two imaginary elementary-aged children for saying the word “fucking” out loud in front of them, tell them that they shouldn’t use that word in school, and then plead with them to not tell their mommy I said the word “fucking.” Since my children are as cunning as me and my imaginary wife are, they will probably ask for certain toys in return for being silent about the profanity. I tell them that they were both accidents, but I agree to their demands if they also let me cut them out of my will.

I ask them if either of them knows what a will is and they both shake their heads, but they agree to the deal.

The Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters is only part of my imaginary complete balanced mature breakfast. I’m also enjoying half a grapefruit with a little Splenda sprinkled on top, two pieces of whole wheat toast with Smart Balance spread, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. My children are each enjoying half a papaya and slightly burnt waffles with sloppily-poured syrup that I prepared in my “Mr. Mom” apron. They fight over the syrup and then complain to me about it. I explain to them that sharing is important and that mommy and daddy share things all the time, like shampoo, soap, and the leather strap swing in our bedroom. I also tell them if they don’t share, they’re going to have to eat dry waffles next time and I’m going to force them to watch CBS sitcoms.

They scream “NO” and decide to share.

Despite being in milk for a few minutes, the dense, lightly sweetened wheat and bran flakes in the Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters are decently still crunchy. The clusters add a lot more crunch to the cereal and the plump raisins add extra sweetness. It smells like Golden Grahams, but it’s not an overly sweet tasting cereal. It’s also not CBS-sitcom dry and boring. I’m surprised about how good it tastes, since usually most things that have a lot of fiber in them taste very “earthy,” or in other words, like dirt, twigs, and tie-dye-wearing hippies who live in a forest.

A serving of Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal provides me with over 40 percent of the 25 grams of fiber I should consume each day, which is good because when I’m fifty years old and a camera gets shoved up my ass during my colonoscopy, all the fiber I consumed will hopefully make everything up there okay. I’m also hoping that if I eat enough fiber, I can make paper out of my poop, like they do with elephant and panda droppings.

My wife enters the kitchen and she’s looking hot in her business suit. She grabs a piece of toast from my plate, takes a bite out of it, puts it back on the plate, kisses me on the cheek, leaving crumbs stuck to it, and then thanks me for letting her sit in the leather strap swing last night. Then she grabs my glass of orange juice, takes a swig, leaves a lipstick mark on the lip of the glass, and then out loud wishes that she didn’t brush her teeth before drinking orange juice. The children laugh, but I want to jump her bones so badly because there’s something about her in a suit that really makes me horny.

When one of my children asks me, “Daddy, what does ‘horny’ mean? Are you a unicorn?” I wish I had an internal monologue in my daydreams. I tell my children that “Horny” is a unicorn and it’s the reason why they’re both here today. I also promise to give them more toys if they don’t mention that to mommy and I don’t have to pay for their college educations.

They agree because my daughter says she’s going to be the next Paris Hilton and not have to do any work or have any skills, while my son says he’s going to be Anakin Skywalker, turn goth, and wear black everywhere he goes.

Sure, the Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal totally looks like a clusterfuck of Raisin Bran, Honey Bunches of Oats, and All-Bran cereals, but it’s a sweet, delicious clusterfuck.

“Daddy, what’s a clusterfuck?”

(Nutritional Facts Per Serving: 170 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, no cholesterol, 260 milligrams of sodium, 330 milligrams of potassium, 45 grams of carbs, 11 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, 21 grams of other carbohydrates, and a variety of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters
Price: FREE
Purchased at: Received from PR firm
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Really good. Smells like Golden Grahams. Over 40% daily value of fiber. Sweet, but not too sweet. Crunchy. Paper made out of poop. How hot my imaginary wife looks in a business suit. Having a leather strap swing in the bedroom.
Cons: Accidently broadening my imaginary children’s vocabulary. Not having internal dialogue in my daydreams. Clusters can sometimes get stuck in between teeth. Sitcoms on CBS. It’s all a daydream. Crazy people who write Letters to the Editor because they have nothing better to do. Dry waffles. My Mr. Mom apron.

Oh, IKEA!

Please do not smite me for not buying any of your Swedish-designed furnishings during my last visit by dropping one of your yellow and blue football field-sized stores on top of me!

I’m sorry that I didn’t purchase any of your cheap furnishings with names that sound like they were created using random Scrabble letters puked out by a five-year-old who didn’t know better. But believe me I wanted to walk out with enough furniture to put my modest two-bedroom apartment through an extreme makeover, but it would be difficult to ship all of it from California to this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, unless you IKEA, made a cheap boat that could be put together with single sheet of simple instructions.

To appease you IKEA, I did not leave totally empty-handed. I purchased one of your IKEA plastic shopping bag for five cents at the checkout counter. Sure, other stores don’t charge me for plastic bags, but I was more than happy to buy one from you so that I don’t get a VIREN or a LILLHOLMEN reamed up any of my orifices by you.

Actually, my friend purchased it and I have yet to pay her back for it. To make up my debt to her, I plan to stand at the corner and flash a little skin at those who pass by and hopefully someone will throw a nickel my way to make me cover myself up. I actually wanted your big blue 59-cent reusable IKEA bag, but I would have to go down on too many people to make that kind of money.

Although, I can reuse your five-cent IKEA shopping bag if I wanted to. I can use it as a trash bag, water bucket, interrogation tool, for a kindergarden sack race, the worst deep sea diver’s helmet EVER, or storage for all the other plastic shopping bags I have. I can also use it for making cheesy rain sound effects in the background whenever I sing the Guns N’ Roses song “November Rain” at karaoke or for making really good plastic shopping bag crumpling sound effects whenever someone is bagging my groceries at the grocery store.

While the bag’s transparency makes it hard to hide from others unwrapped gifts, chopped up body parts, or a collection of Lance Bass clippings from Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazines, its size is significantly larger than the plastic shopping bags from most grocery stores.

These two attributes make your IKEA Plastic Bag the ideal bag for carrying a baby or toddler…if the bag didn’t say “Esta bolsa no es un juguete, puedo causar sofocacion, mantenga bolsa plastica fuera del alcance de los ninos o bebes.” The transparency of the bag would’ve made it easy to see what a kid is up to, while its size would’ve been able to hold not only a child, but also a few toys, some snacks, and a snorkel to help them breathe.

Well IKEA, hopefully the purchase of your five-cent plastic bag won’t cause you to punish me for not purchasing any of your inexpensive furniture, because I don’t think I could handle the punishment of eating a billion of your delicious Swedish meatballs in a row.

(Editor’s Note: IKEA in the US is now charging five cents per plastic bag to discourage shoppers from using them, which in turn will slightly help reduce the waste caused by plastic bags every year. You can read more about it here.)

Item: IKEA Plastic Bag
Price: 5 cents
Purchased at: IKEA
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Big plastic bag. Big IKEA logo on both sides. Comes with built-in handles. Would make a good kiddie transport, if not for the warnings on the bag. Inexpensive Swedish-designed furnishings.
Cons: Most expensive plastic shopping bag ever. Being punished by IKEA for leaving a store empty-handed. Bad for the environment. Bag’s transparency makes it hard to hide your clippings of Lance Bass. Having clippings of Chris Kirkpatrick. The number of people I’d have to go down on to make 59 cents.

When did making microwave popcorn become so complex, like with the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables?

For years, the instructions for microwave popcorn were simple, just like the steps for using the Ronco Showtime Rotisserie Grill or the video camera used to record your personal sex tape with your spouse, significant other, or some random person from the club, which you promise to erase later — just set it and forget it. When it’s done, just pop it out and enjoy it, or in the case of the sex tape, use it also for blackmail or possible internet stardom.

Today, there are microwave popcorn with added steps. With the Orville Redenbacher’s Shakeables, after the popcorn is done in the microwave, the instructions say that I have to stick it in a bowl, sprinkle on the powder from the separate Ranch flavor pouch, cover the bowl, and then shake the bowl to evenly mix the seasoning with the popcorn.

Ugh!

I don’t have time for these extra steps. If I wanted popcorn that involved that much pain, I would go to the closest movie theater, purchase a nine dollar ticket, buy a bag of five dollar popcorn, stick the popcorn in a muzzle, lock my arms and legs to the theater chair using chains and padlocks, and then force myself to watch Larry the Cable Guy in Delta Farce.

I’m not being lazy. Laziness is not wanting to go outside and mow the lawn or being stuck on a recliner, flipping channels, ending up on a Dora the Explorer marathon, accidently dropping the remote, unsuccessfully attempting to reach the remote without moving anything below your arms, then giving up and for the next six hours you help Dora with her quests, while occasionally reaching for the remote, hoping that your arm has grown slightly within the past 45 minutes.

It’s just that these added steps take away the convenience of microwave popcorn. We don’t need no stinkin’ bowl. That’s what the bag is for. The bag is the bowl. As for adding the seasoning and shaking a bowl, if I want to shake something I’ll make my way to a dance floor and shake my thang until the break of dawn. With regular butter microwave popcorn, I don’t have to add the butter, so why do I have to add the Ranch seasoning? If we have the technology to make microwave popcorn, the iPhone, and sex dolls that look real, I’m pretty sure we also have the technological know-how to add ranch flavor to the popcorn pre-popped.

Despite the extra work it takes to prepare the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables, it does taste good and has a strong ranch flavor, which reminds me of most ranch-flavored potato chips. Some people might think that the flavor is too powerful, so for those people I would recommend using less of the flavor pouch. The shaking of the seasoning in the bowl did create an even distribution of flavor, but I think that could also be accomplished using the popcorn bag instead.

Each serving contains 150 calories, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 17 grams of carbs, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of protein, and a very high 550 milligrams of sodium. Speaking of salty, just like the breasts of most pornstars, the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables comes with only two salty bags per box.

So if you like microwave popcorn with a twist and are willing to do some dishwashing and low-impact shaking to get that twist, the Orville Redenbacher’s Shakeables might just be for you.

Item: Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Good flavor. Strong ranch flavor, similar to ranch-flavored potato chips. Zero trans fat. Made with real buttermilk. The ability to add as much or as little flavor as you want. Set it and forget it. Popcorn is a good source of fiber.
Cons: Only two salty bags. Having added steps to microwave popcorn. Delta Farce. Using a sex tape as blackmail. Being lazy enough to sit through a Dora the Explorer marathon. Shaking my thang on any dance floor.

Ever been so broke that your roommate kicked you out for secretly hoarding his/her Cheese-It crackers in a pillow case next to your bed? What about that patent for that invisible dog leash that you didn’t know was already invented? Are you tearing up right now and violently shaking your head in the mirror as you read this? Of course you are. We’ve all been there, but the key is to keep from descending into a life of bootlegging porn and slinging rocks to keep your head above water.

If you’re ever down on your luck but still too prideful to live off of plain old bagged ramens, Nissin is on your side. Indeed, searching through the neighbor’s newspaper to find 10 for $1 deals on your favorite flavors can be humiliating and soul-crushing. Opening the bag and having the bits of ramen spray everywhere around your filth-ridden hovel can be even worse.

Luckily, for just ten times the price, you can avoid all of this. That’s because Nissin’s Chow Mein brand comes in its own microwavable container that you just add water to and cook for a few minutes. If they did their marketing research correctly, all of this crazy technology will make you feel like a bigger person.

After you add water to the fill line and watch it bubble in the microwave, it comes out hot and ready to eat. This should be the part where you take a satisfying bite and show the world that you will indeed make it in life, but something’s very wrong.

Son of a bitch…it’s not chow mein at all! In fact, it’s just regular ramen — as I should’ve expected all along. I would at least expect them to make the noodles bigger or change the taste a little, but they are the same ramen noodles we’ve all come to love and loathe.

What else is the packaging lying to me about? I see on the upper left-hand corner that it claims to have “stir fried noodles with plenty of vegetables” but I can’t figure out why. Obviously, the noodles have never been touched by human hands, let alone a chef next to a wok. I’m pretty sure I didn’t stir fry it in the microwave. If I did, I should be taking Criss Angel’s spot on Mindfreak. About the claim “plenty of vegetables,” I can’t imagine that tick-sized bits of red and green mystery specks could be any way construed as such things. How many lies must a man endure?

Luckily for Nissin, I am a very easy person to please. Apologies tend to warm my heart, even when they are half-assed and meaningless. I have had a whirlwind of emotions with these noodles, but I was giddy with glee as I found a small packet of crushed peanuts inside the box. Oh, the fun those peanuts and I had. After I sprinkled them atop the mound of ramen noodles, I was happy once again.

The noodles themselves tasted pretty good. They were a bit gummier than I would like, but still perfectly edible. The sauce was sweet, sour, and spicy, just as the packaging said it would be. By itself it is a rather meager meal, but the addition of your favorite meat or a simple fried egg would make it a decent lunch. All in all, the purchase did not change my life, but it kept me from a life of crime and debauchery.

Item: Nissin Thai Peanut Chow Mein
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Sauce tastes pretty good. Very easy to cook and eat. Small packets of crushed peanuts.
Cons: Not actually chow mein. No vegetables. Misleading claims about food preparation. Stealing cheap food from roommates.

I never had the chance to properly introduce myself.

I’m Ace, the new writer here at The Impulsive Buy.

You probably think I came in a mail order package from a gourmet catalog. That’s not exactly true, though I have ended up here through unlikely circumstances.

I grew up in in the part of Orange County that they don’t show you on television. I was a pretty good student as a child, earning great marks in playtime and penmanship. I played with Transformers and stuffed animals and often simulated battle royals in which they would fight to the death. I was voted “Most Likely to Succeed” in junior high, which has sadly been the crowning achievement in my life. As I developed into an angst-ridden teenager, I indulged myself in bad emo poetry and became a lazy shell of a human. I started using words like “broseph” and began to sleepwalk through high school. I ended up skating by with a 2.8 GPA and needed to retake a few classes to graduate.

I am now entering my third year at Cal State Fullerton where I am working towards an English degree. I chose the school because I thought “Tuffy the Titan” was such an adorable name for a mascot. My professors are either maniacally insane or nearly comatose, but it’s generally fun. If you live in the Orange County area, feel free to join me for coffee between my classes. I have grown weary of pretending to read the newspaper.

Am I qualified to write anything suitable for human eyes? No, not really. I have done some journalism in previous years, but nothing groundbreaking. My first gig as a writer was when my friend gave me five bucks to write his article for him, so I don’t exactly have “credentials” or anything. However, I have done pretty well in my writing classes. I am accused of being a snob, though, because I like to correct papers with a giant novelty marker and loudly proclaim “Wrong!” or “You really don’t get it, do you?” as I make every mark.

Anyways, I was a long time fan of The Impulsive Buy before I began writing here. It helped me decide to make my own blog, the generically named Here To Eat, where I wrote food pseudo-reviews for dozens upon dozens of fans. I enjoyed doing it as I was free to interject my own pointless musings while talking about chicken fried steak. I guess Marvo liked it enough to offer me a home here. Since I was already a big fan and can still write freely, it was an easy choice to make.

Anyways, that’s pretty much me in a nutshell. Now that you know me, hopefully you guys will not mistake my reviews for Marvo’s. May all good things in life happen to you and only you.

- Ace

The 18 lucky readers below have each won a pack of Wrigley’s 5 gum. I know.  I know.  It’s not the most exciting thing to win and if I won a pack of gum I would probably just shrug my shoulders, say “meh,” and move on with my life.  But I didn’t win, they did, so they might react differently than I would.  Perhaps they might jump up and down a squeal like a little girl.  Or they might do the robot dance.  People celebrate winning in so many ways.  Anyhoo, congratulations to the winners and thanks to everyone who participated.

Comment 6 - Chuck
Comment 22 - Alex
Comment 25 - Fred
Comment 26 - Stephanie
Comment 29 - skibs
Comment 35 - nicole
Comment 47 - Sydnie
Comment 63 - Sky
Comment 81 - webmiztris
Comment 87 - calvin
Comment 90 - Andrew
Comment 93 - Tara
Comment 102 - db cooper
Comment 116 - Kyle
Comment 122 - Cath
Comment 129 - 00000000
Comment 145 - stephanie
Comment 152 - James

Right now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine me washing my body with the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist. Do you like what you’re picturing in your mind?

If you’re having a hard time thinking of what my lathered up bod looks like, let me help you out.

My chest is like Kate Moss’, except I have slightly bigger boobs than she does and a lot more hair. Growl! Like wooden chopsticks at a sushi bar, my arms are skinny, pale, and can only lift things by using both of them at the same time, unless I stab stuff with one arm. My gut could be a six-pack if I sucked it in hard enough, but I don’t, so instead it looks like a mini-keg. If you’ve seen rap video hoochies, you know what my booty looks like, except extremely pale. My legs are like a fine thoroughbred racing horse’s, only in furriness, not in shape or muscle definition. Finally, at certain angles my head kind of looks like John Cho’s from Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle.

Now wrap all of that together, and put some soap suds over it, and you can imagine me cleaning my wet naked body with the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist. Can you visualize it? Can you see my glistening physique? Oooh, do you like what you see? Do you like what you smell?

Well I don’t like what I smell, because the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist makes me smell like lemon Pledge wood spray.

The only times I should smell like lemon Pledge is if I’m getting it on with a hot cleaning maid who speaks very little English on a freshly-cleaned dining table or being sprayed in the face with lemon Pledge by a hot cleaning maid after using the pick up line, “I’ve got something else that’s hard and wooden that needs some cleaning…and lovin’.”

I don’t know if the Iced Tea Twist combined with my au naturel body odor causes some kind of chemical reaction to make it smell like lemon Pledge, but it disappoints me because in the bottle the Iced Tea Twist actually smells like the iced tea I make with the sweetened Nestea iced tea powder mix. It smells good enough that if I wanted to put a Jackass-type of video up on YouTube and the bottle didn’t specifically say, “CAUTION: FOR ADULT EXTERNAL USE ONLY,” I would totally mix it with some chilled filtered water, drink it, then call the National Capital Poison Center at 1-800-222-1222 and hope I don’t die.

The lemon Pledge smell is definitely a turn off, but the metallic brown color of the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist is pretty and I would probably use it if I decide to pimp my 2003 Toyota Corolla and turn it into a rice racer. Finally, Iced Tea Twist is like RuPaul, because they are both 3-in-1. While the Iced Tea Twist is a body wash, bubble bath and shampoo, RuPaul is a woman, a man and FABULOUS.

So if you enjoy smelling like lemon Pledge, and I’m pretty sure one percent of you do, the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist is the next best thing behind using lemon Pledge as an eau de toilette. For the other 99 percent of you, I would recommend avoiding it, because it’s not appealing at all, just like imagining me lathering up my naked body.

(Editor’s Note: Since I won’t be using the rest of the bottle, I’m giving it away. Although, it’s been next to my naked body and I have cooties, so I think I might have a hard time getting rid of it. However, if you’re interested in receiving the rest of the bottle of Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist and possibly getting cooties, just leave a comment with this review with the words “I want to smell like lemon Pledge” and I’ll have a drawing for it. The drawing is open to everyone and entries will be accepted until Sunday, July 15, 2007.)

Item: Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist
Price: $6.00 (on sale)
Purchased at: Bath & Body Works
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: Smells like sweetened Nestea iced tea in the bottle. Cool metallic brown color. Body wash, bubble bath and shampoo. Hot cleaning maids.
Cons: Smells like lemon Pledge on my body. For external use only. Visualizing me washing my naked body with the Bath & Body Works Temptations Iced Tea Twist. Having bigger boobs than Kate Moss.

Sorry for the lack of reviews this week. I was chillin’ in downtown San Diego in the Gaslamp Quarter. Went to the San Diego Zoo and saw many animals…most of them were sleeping. Got sunburnt. Had Bacon Waffles, which were waffles that were made with bits of actual bacon in the batter. Went to Legoland and saw many Lego structures…that I wanted to steal pieces from, but unfortunately, they glue the pieces together. Got sunburnt again. Didn’t have internet access for several days. Had internet withdrawals. Thought about going to a Starbucks and asking someone if I could borrow their laptop to look at porn.

Reviews and news will return next week!

Oh, what I would give to have the Budweiser frogs in front of me right now. Not for nostalgia’s sake or a Super Bowl commercial, but because I want to know how good their legs would taste with the Budweiser Barbecue Sauce.

As we all know, Budweiser is the King of Beers…for people who end up getting arrested on the TV show Cops. So every time I used the Budweiser Barbecue Sauce, I put on my dirtiest wife beater, a trucker hat with a fake mullet sewn into it, and set my CD player to play the Inner Circle song “Bad Boys” with a press of a button. All of that done in preparation for cops to break down my door and chase me throughout my neighborhood with a blurry spot following me around on my face.

Unfortunately, I’ve gone through most of the bottle and the cops have yet to show up, which is good, because I have yet to get rid of some particular hydroponics growing in my closet.

The Budweiser Barbecue Sauce does actually contain Budweiser beer. As a matter of fact, it’s the second ingredient listed on the packaging, behind ketchup and in front of water. Now you’re probably wondering if the beer in the sauce can get you drunk or make Scary Spicy not so scary. I think the Listerine and NyQuil rules of alcohol come into play here, which is, if you don’t throw up first, drinking a gallon of it you will get fucked up.

Consuming the Budweiser Barbecue Sauce as a condiment on a burger I made did make my face feel warm, much like sucking on a bottle of Grey Goose vodka does. However, there weren’t the other usual side effects I get when consuming alcohol, like my face turning red, having to piss every ten minutes, my breathing constricted a little, and screaming Nelson Mandela should be let free…which he has been for almost two decades, but I’m too drunk to remember that.

I’m not too sure if the warm feeling I had on my face was from the beer in the sauce or because of the spiciness of the sauce from the crushed red peppers in it. The kick was definitely nice and as my friend who enjoys going on Southeastern Asian sex tours always likes to say, “Me likey, the spicy.”

The Budweiser Barbecue Sauce looks like ketchup, except with minced garlic floating in it. Along with the spicy kick there’s a slight sweetness and a hint of beer flavor to it. I also used the sauce as a marinade for some thinly-sliced meat and it came out pretty good.

It shouldn’t be surprising that the Budweiser Barbecue Sauce is good for cooking, after all Budweiser the beer is also good for cooking. Boiling hot dogs with a can of Bud is surprisingly good. Another thing these two products have in common is their ability to make me puke if I chug too much of either via a funnel.

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to Peachy for recommending the Budweiser Barbecue Sauce to review. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try to smash the bottle on my forehead.)

Item: Budweiser Barbecue Sauce
Price: $3.00
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tasty. Spicy. Slight sweetness. Garlic. Nelson Mandela is free.
Cons: If you don’t like spicy, it’s not for you. Scary Spice. Chugging too much Bud via a funnel. Not remembering Nelson Mandela is free. Not having the Budweiser frogs to try the sauce on. Diseases from Southeastern Asian sex tours.