When The King isn’t watching you sleep or molesting your children, he’s in the corporate test kitchen. He’s probably molesting the chefs too, but what he’s really doing is finding ways to slowly kill you with fat so that he may harvest your organs to pay for the medical bills that come from maintaining that abnormally large head of his. It’s no surprise that he managed to get this gut-busting Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger green-lit.

There’s also a regular Steakhouse Burger that has lettuce and tomatoes, but for entertainment purposes I decided to go with the more gastronomically disgusting Loaded variety. It’s a cubed angus steak (basically chewy ground beef), about ten strips of bacon, A1 Sauce, fried onion strings, and “loaded” mashed potatoes on a corn-dusted bun. I use the term “loaded” very loosely because I got a smear of mashed potatoes the size of a pat of butter. “Ripped Off” mashed potatoes would be much more fitting.

Of course, I haven’t even gotten to the insanity inherent in a burger with mashed potatoes as a selling point. KFC already crossed several lines with their Famous Bowls, but the PR people at Burger King took it to another level by trying to sell this burger as “the indulgence of an entire steak dinner at a fraction of the cost.” What they fail to mention is that the steak dinner they are referring to is Banquet’s Salisbury Steak, which is on sale at your local supermarket for 99 cents, ironically a fraction of the $6.99 you’ll be paying for this combo.

Once you get down to it, you’re paying a rather hefty price for a rather meager burger that consists of dry, chewy beef, a pig’s ass worth of bacon, a gentle wipe of mashed potatoes, and some crushed Funyuns. This is the type of burger that you should be absolutely embarrassed to order. It is the type of burger that is only dreamt up by the fattest of all fat people and the stoniest of all stoners. The type of burger that you want to tell your mom about, but are too afraid because she would think you were shooting up heroin with the wrong crowd.

Don’t let The King harvest your organs. Boycott this overpriced monstrosity.

Item: Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger
Price: $6.99 for medium combo
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: A ridiculous yet ballsy concept for a burger. A fun story to tell your friends about after it gets pulled. A1 sauce tastes a little better than Burger King’s barbecue sauce.
Cons: Burger is way smaller than advertised. Almost no mashed potatoes. Onions are nearly non-existent. Angus beefsteak is chewy and flavorless. Horrendously overpriced. The King.

I really believe the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice is the marshmallow equivalent of a “fuck you.”

If only I had the addresses of all the people who have bullied, teased, or blueballed me over the years, I would be mailing these fuckers en masse. If you don’t love your child, giving this product to them is probably the softest way to let them know, right behind the words, “You were an accident…that happened in the back seat of a Ford Pinto…with some guy I met at a bar at closing…I think his name was Rick…or Roger…I only had you for the welfare.”

The idea of a strawberry-flavored marshmallow that is shaped like a pizza is something beyond a novelty. It is like a cruel joke that is so cruel, no one laughs at it. Yes, I did say that this marshmallow pizza is strawberry flavored. I will admit a marshmallow pizza that is pizza flavored sounds even worse, but at least it would make sense.

Strangely, I wasn’t drunk, high, or delirious with hunger when I bought it, but I wish I was drunk or high when I ate some of it, because it is something I would like to forget in either an alcoholic haze or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style.

I took three regrettable bites out of the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice and then wished for a flux capacitor to be delivered via FedEx to my door so that I can go back in time and stop myself from purchasing something that not even fat kids would eat.

Its strawberry flavor was like I was eating a shitty strawberry yogurt. Its texture was a little tough, which is weird since it is a frickin’ marshmallow. Finally, the marshmallow pizza itself looked like a Picasso abstract painting…done by a 6-year-old with fingerpaints and on acid.

Despite everything bad about the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice, there is some good. It is fat free, but unfortunately, the zero grams of fat don’t make up for the 1,000 grams of shame.

(Nutrition Facts - 1/2 package - 150 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 35 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbs, 0 grams of fiber, 26 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 4% calcium, 2% iron, and 1,000 grams of shame.)

Item: Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice
Price: $1.49
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: It didn’t make me puke. Fat free.
Cons: It’s a pizza that’s strawberry flavored. 1,000 grams of shame. The marshmallow equivalent of a fuck you. Shitty strawberry taste. No flux capacitor.

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in an M.C. Escher painting, running through endless corridors of waterfalls and weird shit only to end up in the same place. This might be because I browse the shopping aisles after taking a tab of acid, but it’s more likely that I’m just running into the same lazy promotions. Oh boy, another company gone “extreme” to spice up my life. I’ve grown weary of writing “extreme” jokes every other review, so if this is their intention, they have turned me into a beaten man.

Luckily, there is more to this damnation of cardboard tube than a stupid name, and believe me, it is a very stupid name. “Screamin’ Dill Pickle” was actually slang for gonorrhea where I grew up. It brought back some bad memories when I saw this on the shelves. Pickle flavoring on Pringles scared the shit out of me. I absolutely hate it when I get pickle juice on my fries, so pickle flavoring on Pringles would probably be that much worse.

I should probably explain Pringles to the uninitiated. Pringles are for small children who enjoy the novelty of eating stackable chips and stoners who like making those Pringles lips as seen in the commercials. If potato chips were steak, then Pringles would be mechanically separated beef. That’s because Pringles are “potato crisps” that are made from a potato-based dough not unlike your favorite instant mashed potatoes. While this does wonders for their ability to be neatly stacked into tubes, it doesn’t keep Pringles from tasting like salty paper.

While I figured that I probably wouldn’t enjoy this, I was still willing to give it a shot. I figured that the pickle flavoring would be mild at best. I also enjoy partaking in a crispy pickle spear fresh from the jar every once in a while, so I figured that I was prepared for some mighty picklage. However, you readers should know by now that I judge about as well as Lance Ito.

This is either the best thing ever or a nauseating abomination depending on your level of sanity. I don’t know how they did it, but it actually tastes more pickley than a pickle. It pretty much tastes like a McDonalds pickle if you were to take a swig of the juice right after consumption and then had someone kick you right in the nuts.

An informal taste test among a few friends confirmed that it is indeed disgusting, even for pickle lovers. The smell of it is also unsettlingly pungent. Just opening the tube around people leads to many audible complaints, escalating into violent threats after an extended period of time. If you ever sense the pleasurable aroma of pickles at your house, don’t be alarmed. It’s just me opening my Pringles and wondering if these extreme companies will ever let me go shopping sober again.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 ounce - 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 110mg sodium, 14 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 0% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 0% Iron)

Item: Pringles Extreme Screamin’ Dill Pickle
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Very, very, very pickley if you’re into that sort of thing. Tube is sturdy and plastic cap fits well. May be able to fit some small tennis balls in there.
Cons: Just one chip tastes like ten concentrated pickle slices. The smell is ridiculously strong and literally nauseating. People who make Pringles lips. Pringles kind of suck compared to real potato chips. Companies that are too lazy to name their products anything other than Extreme.

Really? Bigger cans are the future of energy drinks? Pfff.

Energy drink companies are going to have to tickle my balls with something a little more than a 32-ounce can, like the one the Monster Heavy Metal Energy Drink is in. Seriously, bigger isn’t always better. I’m sure most women are afraid of thick, 12-inch plus porn cock. Right, ladies? Ladies?

How about enough caffeine to bring back the dead? Or how about an energy drink that not just promotes extreme with silly aggro graphics, but one that will actually make me crazy enough to do something extreme, like do a backflip on a wheelchair, punch an armed crackhead in the face, be a guest on The View, or ask a girl out on a date.

Or perhaps energy drink companies should add more herbs beyond ginseng and guarana? Just take a walk into Chinatown and head for the most hole-in-the-wall-ish hole in the wall and after they pat you down, ask for the “secret stash.” If my shady Chinatown contacts can get the dried penis of any animal on the planet to help my ability to secrete pheromones, energy drink companies can probably get their hands on some crazy ass endangered shit, which they can call in the ingredients list, “Ancient Chinese Secret.”

But none of these are in the Monster Heavy Metal Energy Drink, which makes it just like clowns and Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” — not at all metal. A Big Gulp-sized energy drink sounds good, but the can is so big that it seems unnecessary, like the number of direct-to-DVD American Pie movies.

It wouldn’t be so bad if this energy drink tasted good, like most Monster Energy Drinks, but it doesn’t. It’s one of the worst tasting energy drinks I’ve ever had. It’s Totem Lake Mall bad. The best way I could describe its flavor is to say its like what I imagine all the bodily fluids exchanged in an Anthrax mosh pit would taste like if all the people in the mosh pit ate only citrus fruits and someone were able to collect the bodily fluids without getting knocked out while the thrash metal band played their classic “Caught in a Mosh.”

Forcing myself to drink an entire can was like forcing myself to watch anything on network television that was not written by members of the Writer’s Guild of America. I did finish it and felt quite energetic, but its poor taste caused me to nurse it like I was a 15 year old at a party trying to look cool with a can of Budweiser in my hand.

There’s a warning label on the can that says people should limit consumption to one can a day, but I really think that limit is not strict enough. With the Monster Heavy Metal Energy Drink’s bad taste and bad name, the label should say “Save your money or go buy something else.”

(Supplement Facts - 8 ounces - 100 calories, 23 grams of carbs, 22 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 180 milligrams of sodium, 1.7 milligrams of vitamin B2, 20 milligrams of vitamin B3, 2 milligrams of vitamin B6, 6 micrograms of vitamin B12, 1000 milligrams of taurine, 200 milligrams of panax ginseng, and 2500 milligrams of Monster’s Energy Blend.)

Item: Monster Heavy Metal Energy Drink
Price: $3.79 (32 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Anthrax (the band). Did give an energy boost, but 32 ounces of an energy drink should, unless you’re dead. Sweet, sweet caffeine. My Chinatown contacts.
Cons: Anthrax (the chemical weapon). Bad tasting. One of the worst energy drink I’ve ever had. Unnecessarily big. Porn cock. Clowns. Direct-to-DVD American Pie movies. WGA strike. Collecting bodily fluids in a mosh pit.

Blind or have really bad vision? Let the audio version of this review be your braille.

The new Burger King Bacon Double Homestyle Melt is so greasy that if I wanted to experience puberty all over again and have my face break out into pimples, I would rub my face liberally with this burger.

I know what you’re thinking, pretty much all fast food burgers are greasy, but I felt this limited time only burger was so greasy that if I were in prison and the burger was a bar of soap, I would feel the need to tie a rope around it.

So what makes the Bacon Double Homestyle Melt so greasy?

It’s the Killer Bs: bacon, burger, and butter. It’s got slices of crispy bacon, three slices of Swiss cheese, two flame-broiled hamburger patties, and a creamy garlic cheese sauce all between a buttery flat bun. It was probably the buttery bread that made this burger seem almost as greasy as two used car salesmen in a bikini baby oil wrestling match.

The bread portion of the burger didn’t have enough butter to make Food Network personality Paula Deen cream in her pants, but there’s enough to make my hands just as greasy as the hands of the hairstylist for The Sopranos.

On paper, the Burger King Bacon Double Homestyle Melt looked like a really good burger, but unfortunately the grease from the burger soaked the paper and it fell through.

The burger was small — a little bit bigger than a Whopper Jr. — and I wondered if to compensate for its size, it drove either a Corvette or an Escalade. I thought the creamy garlic cheese sauce would be as artery-hardening good as it sounds, but the garlic was either very faint or non-existent in all of the bites I took, which again wasn’t many, since the burger was Lilliputian in size.

The combination of meat, bacon, and cheese is a great foundation for a burger, which the Burger King Bacon Double Homestyle Melt had, but its weak sauce and buttery bun cracked through that foundation. I thought about risking diabetes, heart disease, and the sight of my penis to try another, but in the end I was all greased out.

(Nutritional Facts - 810 calories, 58 grams of fat, 20 grams of saturated fat, 2 grams of trans fat, 135 milligrams of cholesterol, 1370 milligrams of sodium, 34 grams of carbs, 1 grams of dietary fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 39 grams of protein, 10% Vitamin A, 35% Calcium, 25% Iron, and 25 grams of bigassness.)

Item: Burger King Bacon Double Homestyle Melt
Price: $5.49 (Value Meal)
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Lots of protein. Lots of grease…if you love grease. Lots of sodium…if you love heart disease. Meat, cheese, and bacon is a good burger foundation.
Cons: Small burger. Seems extremely greasy. Couldn’t really taste the creamy garlic cheese sauce. Buttery bun made the burger even less enjoyable. Paula Deen creaming in her pants.

When I was young, I used to have elegant tea parties. I would put on my Sunday’s best and bring out my finest China plasticware. Some of you may think that tea parties are “girly” and my parents may have “wondered” about me at that time, but when the party guests included Megatron, hooded Cobra Commander, Darth Vader’s Tie Fighter, Kikaida, a 1983 Topps Steve Balboni baseball card, and Tenderheart Bear it automatically became a manly tea party.

Unfortunately, tea was never served at my parties, since my mother wouldn’t let me near the stove due to my pyromaniac tendencies and my dad wouldn’t let me pour hot water due to being prone to what he called “Bill Buckner hands.” So I served room temperature tap water at my tea parties, which is much like the equivalent of having wine coolers at a wine tasting party.

Sure my tea parties were sausage-fests, but it was less about who was there and more about what we talked about. In those days, we would discuss democracy in Eastern Europe, the pros and cons of both VHS and Betamax tapes, the rise of the Japanese Yen, and ask each other whose double-Ts were hotter, Smurfette or Scarlett.

Now that I’m grown up and over my pyromaniac and Bill Buckner tendencies, I could have tea parties with actual tea, but most of my tea party friends are no longer with me. I sold Megatron on eBay for $75, hooded Cobra Commander is lost in the yard somewhere, Darth Vader’s Tie Fighter is in its original box sitting on a shelf at my parent’s house, Kikaida was sold at a garage sale, and my 1983 Topps Steve Balboni card was attached to my BMX bike to make fake motorcycle sounds. Thankfully, Tenderheart Bear still sleeps with me every single night, so I wouldn’t be faced with the ways of the alcoholic and drinking alone.

Recently, we tried the Snapple Classic Black Teas, which come in three traditional black tea flavors: English Breakfast, Earl Grey, and Orange Pekoe. Each of them are lightly sweetened and all-natural. They also contain less than 100 calories per bottle, have antioxidants, and should be served chilled.

I shared some with Tenderheart Bear as we discussed the rise of the Canadian dollar, the impact of Wal-Mart on small business, how mediocre the TV show Heroes is this season, and the likelihood that a woman would get an STD from a member of an 1980s hair band…including the drummer. We also gave our thoughts about the Snapple Classic Black Teas and Tenderhear Bear, a connoisseur of teas, didn’t care for them too much.

He thought each of them tasted like someone made tea, forgot they made tea, left it on the kitchen counter for a day, realized they made tea the day before, was too lazy to reheat the tea, was to cheap to throw out the tea, and added a couple of lumps of processed sugar to the tea. He thought they all captured the essence of the flavors, but felt that serving them cold didn’t do them justice and the sugar did kind of ruin the flavor of the tea. He admitted that he’s a purist and would prefer to drink these flavors as hot tea.

It was nice catching up with Tenderheart Bear even though we see each other every night. That quality time spent together got me thinking about starting up tea parties again. I could invite Tenderheart Bear, my iPod for musical conversations, my black pinstripe dress shirt from Banana Republic for fashion topics, my laser printer for literary subjects, and maybe condom tin to talk about why I’m still not getting any.

(Nutrition Facts - One bottle (varies per flavor) - 70 to 90 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 to 5 milligrams of sodium, 17 to 22 grams of carbs, 17 to 21 grams of sugar, and 0 grams of sugar.)

Item: Snapple Classic Black Teas
Price: FREE (Retail price - $1.39)
Purchased at: Given by nice PR people
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Antioxidants. All-natural. Made with real sugar and honey. Less than 100 calories per bottle. Scarlett (I dig redheads).
Cons: Tastes like cold tea that someone accidently threw in sugar. The sugar kind of ruins the flavor of the tea. These flavors taste better hot. Drinking alone. Steve Balboni’s ability to strikeout.

Oh, wook at the wittle doggie on the packaging for the Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Paper Enriched With Aloe & Vitamin E.

Who’s a cute, wittle doggie? You’re a cute, wittle doggie. Yes you are. You wike to wick my nose with your wittle tongue, don’cha. You wook so soft and cuddwy, wittle doggie. If you were here I would use your soft wittle fur to wipe my warge ass.

Don’t bewieve me? Just ask the Snuggle bear.

How could I not buy toilet paper with a cute, wittle doggie on its packaging? It’s hard for me to resist things with cute doggie woggies on them. It’s the reason why I’ve got an unused bag of Puppy Chow, a whole lot of Clifford the Big Red Dog books, every sheet from the 365 Puppies A Year tear-away daily desk calendar from the last five years, and why the website Daily Puppy is at the top of my RSS feed reader.

I was hoping that the Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Paper Enriched With Aloe & Vitamin E would be soft and fluffy like the fur of that cutsy wootsy doggie woggie on its plastic wrapper or the lyrics of Jewel song. I was also expecting it would be so soft that I would intentionally eat Ex-Lax just so I could use it more.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as soft as a doggie woggie, but it felt as good as my usual two-ply Costco toilet paper I get in the über 36-pack that takes me over a year to go through, even after my annual tradition of dressing up as a mummy.

Like Ruffles potato chips or Jabba the Hut’s chin, each sheet of the Cottonelle Toilet Paper has ridges. I thought it glided better over my bunghole compared with other toilet papers I’ve used. I don’t know if the aloe and vitamin E had something to do with reducing roughness, but if they did, I need a shirt made with aloe and vitamin E so that my nipples don’t chafe when I go running. Sure, I enjoy rubbing the Neosporin on them afterwards, but overall, raw nipples aren’t fun.

Oh, if only I were rich or in Europe, I would have a bidet. Or even better, if I were rich, I would be wiping my ass with either the finest Asian silks, 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, or $100 bills. Although, now that I think about it, money can be just as dirty as an Amy Winehouse heroin needle and it’s a pain to wash fine Asian silks. I think I’ll settle for two-ply toilet paper.

Unfortunately, the Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Paper Enriched With Aloe & Vitamin E is only one ply. The one ply is thick, but just like Jabba the Hutt, it choked when around my “Great Pit of Carkoon.” It tore in non-perforated areas often while ripping away sheets from the roll and while cleaning my undercarriage. This is not acceptable because I didn’t want to accidently have my finger slide up into me. If I’m going to have a finger slide into me, I want it to be the finger of someone I paid to do so.

Unless it starts packaging an actual cute wittle doggie woggie with it, I don’t think the Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Paper Enriched With Aloe & Vitamin E is worth it. It’s one ply, seems to tear easily, is just as soft as the two-ply stuff I get from Costco, and is pricey per roll. The aloe and vitamin E do seem to add less roughness to the toilet paper, but unless you have a bad case of diarrhea or get OCD when it come to wiping your ass, you probably won’t really notice it.

Item: Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Paper Enriched With Aloe & Vitamin E
Price: $6.37 (12 rolls)
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Cute wittle puppy on the front. Sewer and septic system safe. Aloe and vitamin E do seem to make paper less rough. Clifford the Big Red Dog. Rubbing Neosporin on nipples. Daily Puppy.
Cons: Seems to tear easily. One ply. Pricey for the amount of rolls. Their “double rolls” look like normal rolls. Paying more than $100 to have someone slide a finger into me.