Libby’s Zesty Barbecue Vienna Sausage

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.

Hood Carb Countdown Strawberry-Banana Lowfat Yogurt Smoothie

Hood Smoothie

The Impulsive Buy has reviewed a couple of yogurt smoothies over the past couple of months: The Yoplait Nouriche and the Dannon Frusion. Both of them were good, but if you read the nutritional information, you will notice each product has enough carbs and sugar to cause the late Dr. Atkins to un-cremate his body and scold your carb-craving fat ass.

If that whole coming back to life by un-cremation were possible, the zombie Dr. Atkins would probably recommend the Hood Carb Countdown Strawberry-Banana Lowfat Yogurt Smoothie. He would also try to eat your brains, because he’s a zombie and it’s protein.

While chewing on your cerebellum, he would probably tell you that the Hood Carb Countdown Strawberry-Banana Lowfat Yogurt Smoothie is low in carbs, low in sugar, low in fat, low in calories, and has more protein than the Yoplait Nouriche, Dannon Frusion, and your brain stem. Also, he might brag about the fact his name in prominently on the bottle a couple of times.

Unfortunately, the zombie Dr. Atkins probably wouldn’t mention the fact that the Hood Carb Countdown Strawberry-Banana Lowfat Yogurt Smoothie tastes much worse than the Nouriche and Frusion, but slightly better than the frontal lobe he’s chewing on.

The texture of it was kind of chalky, and yes I did remember to shake well. I guess I should’ve expected this, after all it is “lowfat.”

Now boys and girls, to avoid selecting crappy products while you’re shopping, it’s very important to remember this fun and simple equation:


LCarb + LS + LF + LCal = CRAP
(Low Carbs + Low Sugar + Low Fat + Low Calories = Cruddy Repulsive Attempt at a Product)

If you’re trying to reduce your carbohydrates intake, this is a great product with only 4 grams of carbs, but that’s all it’s got going for it.


Item: Hood Carb Countdown Strawberry-Banana Lowfat Yogurt Smoothie
Purchase Price: $2.39 (on sale)
Rating: 1 out of 5
Pros: Low carbs. Low sugar. Low fat. Low calories.
Cons: Low carbs. Low sugar. Low fat. Low calories. Low taste. Low desire to buy another.