September is upon us and many of us are going back to college for another semester of higher education and even higher bong hits. For a lot of people, school is an amazing wonderland that enriches the mind with knowledge and experience. If you are one of these people, I despise you — yet long to become you.

My days are mostly spent staring blankly like a grouper fish while my professors tell unfunny jokes. It has already come to the point where they barely register in my melted mind.

Melted is the key word here, as the recent heat wave has made walking around both uncomfortable and embarrassing. As I drag myself into class, I can’t help but think that looking like I’ve just run a marathon in a rubber suit raises some eyebrows. I no longer find it disturbing that I regularly fantasize about destroying the sun and gleefully frolicking amidst an Ice Age utopia.

So it’s strange that one of my new favorite snacks promotes the virtues and value of heat. Indeed, the Blazin’ Buffalo flavor of Goldfish has been both a tasty and satisfying snack whenever I feel the need to crunch on something. I’m probably ten years above the target market, but I can’t resist a snack that actually smiles back at me as I’m eating it.

The flavor appealed to me because I’ve been looking for something to curb my hot wing addiction for quite some time. Since football season is now coming back in full gear, I decided that buying the Goldfish for a little over a buck was a good choice to make for my wallet.

Ordering wings at my favorite place costs $35 for a tub of 50 and isn’t something I can really afford on a regular basis. It had gotten to the point where I had to sell my body for bottles of blue cheese. Actually, it never got that far, but it would make for a funny story.

So does the taste of these lovable crackers actually come close to buffalo wings? Well, sort of. It’s not actually all that spicy, certainly not spicy enough to warrant a “Blazin‘” label. Thankfully, it’s also not as salty as the other “Flavor Blasted” varieties that taste as though they’ve been invented for the sole purpose of giving children high blood pressure.

Overall, it’s a tasty snack because it has a decent amount of buffalo wing flavor while still maintaining the addictive qualities of Goldfish crackers. It’s nothing to get too excited about, but at least I can now proudly hum the Goldfish jingle to myself as I’m slowly roasting in a poorly ventilated classroom.

Item: Goldfish Flavor Blasted Blazin’ Buffalo Wing
Price: $1.29
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Tasty buffalo wing flavor that isn’t overbearing. Great snack for kids, kids-at-heart, and kid lovers. Happily dancing in a frozen tundra.
Cons: Not as spicy as I would like it to be. Eating a children’s snack as a young adult. Sweating a lot more than other people. Prostituting my body for condiments.

The Wendy’s Baconator has a name usually reserved for those college students who fully take advantage of the all-you-can-eat breakfast bar in the dormitory cafeteria or the wingmen who takes home the fat chicks.

It’s a simple burger that doesn’t have any secret sauces, fancy breads, exotic cheeses, special meats, or vegetables. It’s just two lightly salted quarter pound patties of ground beef, six strips of bacon, two slices of cheese, ketchup, and mayonnaise in between a bun.

In this day and age of Ciabatta bread and chipotle peppers, the Baconator’s simplicity is comforting, like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and milk or nestling my head in between the voluptuous bosom of a woman.

Of course, what’s not comforting about the Baconator is its nutritional values, which makes the Big Mac’s seem small, like a penis after being dunked in the cold water.

While the Baconator has 830 calories, 51 grams of fat, 22 grams of saturated fat, 2.5 grams of trans fat, 170 milligrams of cholesterol, and 1,920 milligrams of sodium, the Big Mac has the less artery-clogging values of 540 calories, 29 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 75 milligrams of cholesterol. and 1,040 milligrams of sodium.

With all that meat and its nutritional values, the Baconator is not a burger that you would want to eat often or during your recovery from triple bypass surgery or in the middle of a Weight Watchers meeting or in the lion’s den at a zoo or at a PETA protest. But if you can eat several of these in one sitting, you should be given the nickname, “Baconator-tor.”

Despite its unhealthiness and fugliness in the picture above, the Baconator a pretty good burger. It was smaller than I thought it would be, but it’s a pretty dense burger. As a matter of fact, when I was carrying the paper Wendy’s bag it came in, it kind of felt like it was going to fall through the bottom.

As for its taste, the smokiness from the bacon complimented well with the juicy ground beef patties and the two slices of cheese. The ketchup and mayonnaise added a nice creamy tomato flavor to it. All together, it created a simple, classic taste, like something I would’ve gotten from a drive-in restaurant from the 1950s.

But all is not perfect with this burger. Wendy’s claims the Baconator has six strips of bacon, and it technically does, but those strips were awfully short. I know bacon shrinks significantly when cooked, but it would probably take two or three strips from the Baconator to equal one strip of bacon from a package I bought from the store and fried on my own.

Overall, it’s a really good burger. Although, after eating one, I feel like my lifespan has shortened a little bit. Again, it’s simple with a classic taste, which I really like.

I wish I could say the same for the type of women I like, which is high-maintenance, high heels, and with a high tolerance of me.

Item: Wendy’s Baconator
Price: $6.49 (Small Combo)
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Simple burger with a classic taste. Heavy burger. Half pound of beef. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and milk. Resting my head in between the voluptuous bosom of a woman.
Cons: Six strips of bacon were small. Bad nutritional values that make the Big Mac’s look healthy. 2.5 grams of trans fat. Eating meat at a PETA protest. Eating a Baconator at a Weight Watchers meeting.

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.

The new Del Monte Bloom Energy Drink maybe formulated for women, but that won’t stop me from drinking it because I’m not afraid to use women’s products. To be honest, I’ve used a number of them over the years. For example, tampons are great for small spills when a paper towel is way more than you need, douche bags make cheap water guns, and issues of Playgirl Magazine make awesome cockroach killers.

Sure, by drinking Bloom Energy I risk the chance of having the side effects I occasionally have when using women’s products, like the time when I tried to see if Secret deodorant really was strong enough for a man, which it was, and while I had it on, I broke out into my own Vagina Monologue and talked about my vagina and how it empowers me for about thirty minutes.

Other side effects I’ve had included, wanting to be in the audience for a taping of Oprah, watching Brad Pitt in Fight Club over and over again, and dry mouth, which now that I think about it, wasn’t really a side effect, but instead a 50-cent dare in college to suck on a tampon for one minute.

Bloom Energy comes in three flavors: Wild Berry, Cran Raspberry and Mango Passionfruit. Each flavor was very good, which was probably due to the fact that each was made from 50% juice. The Wild Berry was slightly tart, but sweet; the Cran Raspberry tasted like fizzy cranberry juice; and the Mango Passionfruit was more passionfruit than mango. I also had some of my female co-workers try Bloom Energy and they all said that each flavor would go well with alcohol.

They apparently are all lushes.

Not only does Bloom Energy taste good, it’s also kind of good for you. Each can has 100 calories (which most servings of energy drinks have), a full serving of fruit, 100% daily value of Vitamin C and five B vitamins, calcium and Vitamin D to support bone strength, other essential vitamins and nutrients, and antioxidants.

The only thing I don’t like too much about Bloom Energy is its caffeine content, which comes from white tea extract and guarana. The 74 milligrams of sweet, sweet caffeine in each can maybe enough for the instant coffee crowd, but it’s definitely not sufficient for hardcore caffeine junkies who like an energy drink that puts the “rage” in beverage.

So did drinking Bloom Energy cause any side effects for me? Fortunately, while drinking each flavor, I didn’t have any — unless you count me painting my toenails in the shade Deep Passion Red as a side effect.

The Del Monte Bloom Energy Drink maybe not be made for a guy like me, but I like it a lot. So I’m hoping that me being called a “pussy” often might not make it seems so strange to have one in my hand.

(Editor’s Note: Tanya at Iateapie.net also reviewed the Bloom Energy Drink. She liked the taste and the nutritional value of it, but didn’t like the price. Also, thanks for the folks at Colburn for sending me some samples to review.)

Item: Del Monte Bloom Energy Drink
Price: FREE (MSRP $1.99 - 10.5 ounces)
Purchased at: Received from nice people at Coburn
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Very tasty. 50 percent juice. Easy to drink. No HFCS. No artificial colors or flavors. Provides one serving of fruit. Vitamins and minerals. Antioxidants. Fat free. May go well with alcohol. Energy drinks that put the “rage” in beverage. Playgirl Magazine makes a great cockroach killer.
Cons: Not enough caffeine for hardcore caffeine junkies. The occasional side effects I have from using women’s products. Sticking a tampon in your mouth. I am a pussy.

If the new Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger — which contains a grilled slice of Dole pineapple — becomes really popular, I fear that a particular sponge that lives in a pineapple under the sea might not have a home to return to.

After trying the Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger, I think SpongeBob SquarePants might just lose his home, because it’s a surprisingly good burger, which may cause the demand for pineapples to go up. Sure, it may not look very good in the picture above, but you know what they say, “Never judge a burger by the immigrant or high-school-aged minimum wage worker who made it.”

Despite how good it is, I can’t let SpongeBob lose his home, because if he has no home, he might end up coming out of the water and eventually find his way to my apartment on this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

That would be totally uncool.

A visit from SpongeBob is just like a visit from your extremely racist grandma or non-deodorant wearing European cousin who sweats like a pig. After a little while, you REALLY want them to go.

I can just imagine what it would be like living with him. Sure, it would be fine if SpongeBob just sat quietly in front of the TV and watched the Food Network all day, but just like a drunk Mel Gibson, it’s hard for SpongeBob to not open his mouth and say something irritating or offensive. I think I’d also be irritated by his obnoxious voice or his laugh and I’m afraid of conversations that will go like this:

Marvo: I just bought a bag of chips, do you know where it is? I know you know, you spineless, leeching prick, because there are chip crumbs around your mouth.

SpongeBob: Those chips are apparently on your shoulder and not in my stomach. Daaaa! Daaaa! Daaaa!

He also seems like a messy kind of guy. I don’t want him to be leaving his SquarePants wherever he wants and I hope he doesn’t leave his underwear strewn all over the place, because I’m not touching his SquareTightyWhiteys or SquareThong.

Anyway, along with the grilled slice of pineapple, the Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger also consists of a charbroiled all-beef patty, teriyaki sauce, swiss cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, sliced red onions, and mayonnaise, all in between a sesame seed bun. The idea of having a pineapple in a burger does sound disgusting, and I originally thought so too, but after trying the Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger I found that the pineapple actually enhances the decent teriyaki sauce, giving it a good sweet and salty flavor.

With 660 calories, 61 grams of carbs, 34 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol and 1,070 milligrams of sodium, it’s a burger I don’t see myself eating on a daily basis, unless I’m trying to win the role of that fat fuck Sir John Falstaff in the community Shakespeare theater production of Henry IV.

The Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger is a little pricey and isn’t available throughout the country, so there probably won’t be a pineapple shortage anytime soon. However, if SpongeBob does end up at my apartment and irritates me, I’m definitely going to use his absorbent, yellow, porous ass to clean my kitchen counter with lots of elbow grease and Ajax.

(Editor’s Note: Phoood also enjoyed it. Read their review here.)

Item: Carl’s Jr. Teriyaki Burger
Price: $6.29 (regular-sized meal)
Purchased at: Carl’s Jr.
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Surprisingly good burger. Pineapple and teriyaki sauce make a good sweet and salty combination. Lots of protein. Creative idea.
Cons: Small pineapple slice. Pricey, but isn’t everything from Carl’s Jr. Messy to eat. Lots of sodium. Lots of things that will make you fat. Living with SpongeBob SquarePants. Not available at sister company Hardee’s. Visits from your extremely racist grandma. SquareThong.

Yo mama is so skinny that when she walks into a Curves all the ladies give her a look that says, “What the fuck you doin’ in here skinny bitch?!?”

Ever since I’ve started using Smart Mouth mouthwash, my ability to produce quality Yo Mama snaps has significantly gone down. You would think with a name like Smart Mouth it would actually improve my Yo Mama insults, but unfortunately that’s not the case.

Instead I’ve been spitting out Yo Mama compliments and I’ve been losing Yo Mama battles with friends, family, co-workers, and random little kids on the playground. How am I supposed to prove how bad ass I am when I’m coming up with lines like:

Yo mama is so beautiful that when she’s at a beach in her bikini all the creepy voyeuristic photographers there only pay attention to her.

This is not helping my street cred or my chances of getting on the MTV show Yo Mamma. I would stop using the Smart Mouth mouthwash to get my Yo Mama snaps quality back to normal, but it actually does a very good job of freshening breath with its “Clinically Proven Zinc Ion Technology.”

Maybe if I think really hard and put a constipated looked on my face to make me look like I’m thinking hard, I might just be able to come up with a decent Yo Mama insult.

Yo mama’s breath smells so good that I totally want to invade her personal space, marry her, and eventually adopt you.

Damn!

Smart Mouth works much like the chemical bomb in the movie “Die Hard with a Vengeance,” which involves two separate liquids that are pretty much harmless individually, but when mixed together they can do some damage.

Each box of Smart Mouth mouthwash contains two separate solution pump bottles and a mixing cup. According to the box, mix four pumps from each bottle of solution into the mixing cup. Then rinse vigorously with the mild, minty mixture for 30-60 seconds, gargle and spit out. Repeat every morning and night.

Of course, those 30-60 seconds do increase the time of my morning ritual.

The box also did say it contained a 15 day supply, but just like a Sting tantric sex romp, it surprisingly lasted longer than expected. The 8-ounce bottles provided enough solution for four weeks of me vigorously rinsing every morning and night. If it did only last 15 days, the $12.49 I spent on it wouldn’t have been worth it. Although, now that I think about it, it’s still kind of pricey for a four week supply, since a year’s worth will be about $150.

I guess I could go back to selling my body to pleasure middle-aged female Japanese tourists to pay for it, but that might take awhile, since I’m a very cheap male prostitute.

The Smart Mouth mouthwash did freshen my breath and make me feel more confident about myself. Smart Mouth also claims their mouthwash can help with morning breath and thanks to my hot hairstylist and an early morning appointment, I found out that it did help, but not completely, which slightly irritated my hot hairstylist, who did not expect me to come to my appointment without brushing my teeth.

Beside my inability to come up with Yo Mama insults, the Smart Mouth mouthwash temporarily made my mouth feel dry, but that’s probably the “Clinically Proven Zinc Ion Technology” doing its job. But perhaps it’s doing its job a little too well, affecting my Yo Mama abilities.

Yo mama is so young that every time she buys wine, the cashier has to card her, gets surprised by her age, and then asks her what’s her secret to looking so young.

Nope, that sucked!

Yo mama is so smart that after winning a million dollars on the game show Who Wants to be a Millionaire, she decided to get a master’s in business administration and go to law school at the same time.

Damn you, “Clinically Proven Zinc Ion Technology!”

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to TIB reader Domokun for letting me know about Smart Mouth last year. Thanks to Melissa for reminding me about Smart Mouth this year.)

Item: Smart Mouth Mouthwash
Price: $12.49
Purchased at: The-Superstore-Behemoth-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Helps freshen breath. Kind of helps with morning breath. Mixture is mild, since it’s alcohol-free. Bottles lasted significantly longer than what was said on the box.
Cons: Pricey. Possibly having to sell my body to pay for it. Caused me to lose my ability to come up with Yo Mama insults. Increases the length of my morning ritual. Hurts my street cred.