I believe I have found something worse than coal that Santa can give out to the naughty kids for Christmas this year.

If jolly St. Nick wants to be pissed off St. Dick and punish all the little shits around the world, he should stick the Cherry Cassis Kombucha Wonder Drink in their stockings because it is probably one of the most vile beverages I have ever put between my lips and down my gullet.

It’s like they took the essence of the 2 Girls 1 Cup video, strained it into liquid form, added a little carbonation, and sealed it in an aluminum can, because much like the 2 Girls 1 Cup video, this beverage made me cry, grimace, and shout out loud, “DAMN, THAT’S FUCKING NASTY!”

(Editor’s Note: If you don’t know what 2 Girls 1 Cup is, it is VERY NSFW (Insert Fark bill here). It is so horribly disgusting that I am not even going to provide a link for it. It is one of the most repulsive things I have ever seen…a couple dozen times.)

The best way I can describe the taste of the Cherry Cassis Kombucha Wonder Drink is to say that its tart chemical flavor was like drinking a photo darkroom. Its ingredients consisted of water, organic kombucha concentrate, organic green tea, organic cane juice, black currant (cassis) juice concentrate, cherry juice concentrate, and carbonation. The cherry and the cassis give it a tartness, the green tea gives it antioxidants, while the kombucha gives it a shitiness.

In the context of the ingredients list, kombucha seems like it is a fruit with a funny name, like a jaboticaba, but it is actually a symbiosis of bacteria and yeast. Doesn’t that just roll down your tongue, then down your throat, and then back up your throat? Yummy!

According to the can, kombucha is supposed to detoxify, energize, help strengthen the immune system, aid digestion, and regulate appetite. The only effect I could notice was my lack of appetite, thanks to it making me a little nauseous. Even reading the Wikipedia page about kombucha made me slightly queasy.

With its unusual name and natural origins, it is something I expect hippies and Madonna to be into, but I could not get into it, despite forcing myself to drink half of the can. “I’m sure it is an acquire taste,” I said to myself, but every sip I took felt like what I imagine it is like being Lucifer’s urinal.

Sure, the Cherry Cassis Kombucha Wonder Drink contains all-natural ingredients and is good for you, but I’m pretty certain that someone who drinks their own urine would find this particular Wonder Drink disgusting.

If the Cherry Cassis Kombucha Wonder Drink can make me cry and wince, imagine all the pain and suffering it could cause with all the rotten children out there, perhaps setting them straight. It could help decrease teen pregnancy, lower drug use, increase test scores, and open their eyes to how lame Heelys are.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 can - 80 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 17 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, and 100 grams of holy-shit-what-the-fuck-is-this!)

Item: Cherry Cassis Kombucha Wonder Drink
Price: $1.99 (12 ounces)
Purchased at: Uwajimaya
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: 100% natural. Partially organic. Contains green tea and antioxidants. Kombucha is a funny word to say. Those on the nice list.
Cons: Being Lucifer’s urinal. 2 Girls 1 Cup. Not a source of vitamins and minerals. 2 Girls 1 Cup. It tastes like a photo darkroom. 2 Girls 1 Cup. I am not man enough to drink an entire can. 2 Girls 1 Cup. Heelys. 2 Girls 1 Cup. Those on the naughty list.

If a complete dinner in less than two minutes doesn’t appeal to you, then you’re either lying to me or to yourself. People barely have time to put on their pants before they get out of the house, a problem that has cost me several hundred dollars and a few restraining orders.

Hormel understands and they have introduced a line of Compleat meals that come out hot and ready in 90 seconds. That’s how long it used to take me to spike my ridiculously bad Asian hair in junior high (Note to self: travel back in time and slap self). By any standard of convenience, taking a box out of the cupboard and microwaving it the length of a couple commercials is pretty damn easy. But as exciting as it may seem, not all things turn out the way you want them to.

Shocking, I know.

You mean a 90 second meal doesn’t set the culinary world on fire? Well, no, unless that fire is started by me after I take my molotov cocktails over to the Hormel factory. Everything about this meal is offensively horrible in the worst way imaginable. Even worse, the cooking directions are all off. I can deal with crappy food, but when the crappy food comes out so cold that I keep having to taste it to see when it’s ready, I just begin an all out vendetta with the thing.

All in all, it probably took five solid minutes to heat the thing through. By that point, the edges of the mashed potatoes were crisp and the center was unpleasantly tepid. I understand that contrasts in texture makes food interesting, but the principle doesn’t exactly apply here.

So now that I figured out that it really takes the same amount of time to cook as a regular frozen dinner, it had to be really damn good to not make me chuck it at the neighbor’s annoying dogs. I’m sad to say that it disappointed me deeply.

The meat was dry, almost like beef jerky, and came apart in flakes. Yes, flakes. You know, like how really well cooked fish does, but only completely awful and from a cow. Not only is that disgusting, it is confusing to the taste buds.

The gravy wasn’t any better. In fact, it was completely tasteless and worthless. The mysterious sauce was watery and contained only hints of beefy goodness. It’s hard to describe…the best way I can describe it is that it tasted like “brown” with perhaps some celery thrown in. It covered the beef and a sizable bed of mashed potatoes.

I was actually pleasantly surprised with the potatoes at first because they were lumpy like homemade mashed potatoes. This was before I realized that it was just undercooked potato flakes that were just dense and mealy. My disgust at this revelation was the breaking point. In my growing hysteria, I threw the bowl against the wall and watched it slowly drip down towards oblivion. You’ll have to take my word for it, but it was very dramatic.

All in all, my hopes were crushed and it will be a long time before I can truly dream again. It was a lesson learned the hard way: gourmet meals aren’t cooked in 90 seconds. Especially ones that appear to be designed for bomb shelters and emergency kits.

Item: Hormel Compleats Roast Beef and Gravy
Price: $2.04
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: You can use the plastic bowl as a 7 layer dip container after you’re done.
Cons: Cold and flavorless food. Spiky hair. Ridiculous promises regarding cooking length. Public indecency.

I take back everything bad I said about other things I reviewed, this is proof that the devil lives among us. And apparently the devil takes on the form of a blonde mermaid who hocks packaged fish products. Nice try, you sleazy merchant of lies. You don’t even really exist in nature, your origin came about when drunk and horny pirates mistakenly identified a seal. Maybe next time wear a clamshell bra like Ariel from The Little Mermaid if you want to win my trust and make me have a disturbing, sexually confusing crush on you.

How I came about stumbling upon this box of evil seemed innocent enough. I was minding my own business, shopping at the gigantic corporate mega mart that simultaneously fuels and ruins our country, when I had a sudden craving for tuna. I skimmed the aisles until I found the cheapest can I could and then noticed something beside it. Like a siren, it called to me. I picked it up and threw it in my cart. Little did I know I was in possession of a product that was more akin to Pandora’s Box than a can of tuna.

I related to the small sealed cup because like myself, it had a massive identity crisis. The label is a true orgy of bullshit that I had to wade through just to figure out what the damn thing was. First of all, it was from Chicken of the Sea, which I’ve been conditioned to believe sells tuna.

However, it is addressed as a salmon cup, which is neither chicken nor tuna. To make matters more complicated, the words “Mandarin Orange” are included in a big box as if to indicate that this was indeed a fruit cup and that everything else was included for the sole purpose of pissing me off.

After my head exploded and the minimum wage worker lazily wiped the remains off the floor, I checked out. I mentioned to the cashier, “You do realize that this is fucking ridiculous, right?” but only received a puzzled look in response. I took the cup home and decided to give it a shot.

This is by far the most vile thing I’ve ever attempted to consume. The scent is somewhere between orange scratch-n-sniff and demon breath. I am convinced that if Syracuse University’s orange mascot died in a football celebration gone terribly awry, this is what he’d smell like after two weeks. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this thing came straight out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel.

By this point I had confirmed that it was indeed salmon in some type of mandarin orange sauce. My first taste was one of bewilderment and disgust. “I don’t recall salmon tasting like syrup, orange liquor, and charcoal,” I thought to myself.

Needless to say, I quickly spit it out and burned the plastic bag just in case it decided to return and make me eat it in my sleep. I ran into the garage seeking sandpaper to lick so I could get rid of the taste.

They say that which does not kill you makes you stronger, but those people apparently never tasted mandarin orange salmon cups. The sadist in me wants you to try it with your family and share in the pain that I’ve felt, but the Jesus complex in me wants to save you from this horrible wreck.

It’s your call, but don’t come back crying when your spouse leaves you and your oldest daughter becomes a broken emo girl that I may or may not try to sleep with at a party.

Item: Chicken of the Sea Mandarin Orange Salmon Cups
Price: 85 cents
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: Hot animated mermaids. Hermetically sealed packaging.
Cons: Dead orange mascots. Smell from said dead orange mascot. Abominable taste. the shame of shopping at Wal-Mart. Confusing labels. Salmon officially losing all of its dignity.

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.

(Editor’s Note: Just to let you know, this review wasn’t written by me. It doesn’t have any references to Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Rosie or my inability to please women. This review was penned by new TIB writer Ace, who had his own product review blog called Here to Eat, but is now here at TIB as a college intern. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any college credit and he’ll probably have to collate, hole-punch, and staple papers.)

I’ve always been told that one of the most important things one can do in life is make a good first impression. Unfortunately, I tend to ignore people I deem stupid so most advice goes way over my head. I once took a girl out on a first date and audibly complained that getting another slice of cheese on my burger costs an extra 30 cents. Later on, I mused about “really thinking about buying war bonds” and “striking it rich with Pog collecting.” After I finished explaining that “I’m not a stalker,” she seemed visibly disgusted.

Oh, the witty thought bubbles Blind Date would’ve put over our heads!

Alas, it was not meant to be.

But something I’ve learned from television is that no matter how badly you screw up, you can always dye your hair and move to a different state. This is why back in the 90’s I looked like an Asian Dennis Rodman. Not exactly a pretty sight, but that’s the sacrifice I had to make. All of that’s in the past and now I’m here with all you fine folks reviewing everything America has to offer: the good, the bad, and the Libby’s Zesty Barbecue Vienna Sausages.

Vienna sausages never made a good first impression with me. They were limp, soft, and devoid of any flavor except for perhaps urine and pig intestines. Looking like flaccid hot dogs didn’t help their case either. The fact that they even call it a Vienna sausage is obscene. It’s like inventing a “Luxembourg Sandwich” and making it with bologna and chicken gravy. Granted, that sounds absolutely delicious, but it doesn’t make it accurate.

Vienna is supposed to be a city rich with culture, history, and from what I gathered from the movie Hostel, hot and easy Euro chicks. These sausages have none of that.

Actually, I might be shortchanging them a bit — they might contain Euro chicks, since they’re already made with chicken, beef, and pork. Throw in some tuna and they could make a formidable basketball team down at the local YMCA.

Vienna sausages are life’s “fuck you” waiting in the cabinet when you’re hung over and depressed; heart welling with anguish after a long night of binge drinking because you’re wondering why Gordon Ramsey has to be so darn mean on Hell’s Kitchen. All you have left after that are these crimes against nature, which are mysteriously cheaper than cat food and come in disturbingly similar packaging. I’m not one to turn down a good can of Fancy Feast, but it’s not exactly something I’m proud of. There is a saving light, however! The sausages now come with a zesty barbecue sauce.

The makers of the sausage would like to believe that the addition of an awful sauce would make their product suitable for human consumption. My rebuttal would be a Lex Luthor-style WROOOONG!!!

Damn, where do I start?

The sausages have a distinct metallic aftertaste. I’m not sure if this is because they’ve been in a can since the first world war, but it is not exactly pleasing to the palette. The barbecue sauce is just regular Vienna sausage sauce mixed with some ketchup and brown sugar. It makes for a viscous disaster of a condiment. I tried them on a hot dog bun and barely got through two bites. I wouldn’t even feed it to my worst enemy, for I fear that upon consumption he would be stricken with so much rage that I would be immediately eviscerated.

Maybe it was stupidity or maybe it was morbid curiosity, but I was drawn to these things. For that, I am ashamed. I hope Libby’s enjoy their 48 cents, because it is safe to say that I will not be making this purchase again unless I am attempting suicide and need some extra incentive.

Item: Libby’s Zesty Barbecue Vienna Sausage
Price: 48 cents
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: Knowing that the production of this stuff at least gives people jobs.
Cons: Barbecue sauce on a god damn vienna sausage. Distinct metallic aftertaste. Complaining about the price of cheese on dates. Look like flaccid hot dogs. An Asian Dennis Rodman. Gordon Ramsey’s temper.