Soda Review: Diet Coke Plus

Posted by robbposch on May 19, 2007
Posted in: Soda Reviews. Tagged: , , . Leave a comment

Despite the fact that it probably seems like I survive on an unhealthy diet made up almost entirely of sugar, that couldn’t be further from the truth.  I survive on an unhealthy diet made up almost entirely of artificial sweeteners.  And while that isn’t entirely true either (don’t worry, eventually some things I say in here will be true… probably), it is a sad fact that chemicals make up a large portion of what I ingest.

And to that potentially frightening fact I say, “Eh.”  I figure, although maybe “hope” would be a better word, that the extreme aspects of my weird diet will do their best to cancel each other out.  Yes, I may drink countless cans of chemically-infused diet sodas a day, but I also eat about a pound of vegetables a day.  So we’re even.  

Regardless, my contrasting attitudes towards health have seemingly come together into one, glorious product: Diet Coke Plus.  Essentially, it is Diet Coke with vitamins and minerals added to it.  I had doubts going into trying it.  I’m not a huge fan of Diet Coke.  That sounds odd, considering how much of it I drink, but that is more a result of lack of choices.  It’s the default diet soda in most restaurants, as well as in theme parks and sports venues.  So while I am not a huge fan of the food or the three hour waits, this is one reason why The Cheesecake Factory is amazing: they have Fresca on tap.  That alone always gives me a spark of hope for the future of humanity.

Given my rather indifferent feelings towards Diet Coke, the idea of adding vitamins didn’t sound like a sure-fire way to improve the taste.  I’m not sure if you have ever chewed on a Centrum (I have, but it was by accident, which makes it a slightly less ridiculous thing to say), but they’re not exactly delicious.  So Diet Coke + bitter vitamins = good?  I was already beginning to doubt the plus in that equation.  Or maybe it’s the equals sign that makes it incorrect, I’m not sure.  Although the soda is called Plus, so I’ll go with the former.

After tasting it, I was hit with a weird realization: it tastes better than regular Diet Coke. This is because they use a sweetener combination of Ace-K and aspartame, not just plain aspartame.  This combination is used in one of my current favorite sodas, Coke Zero.  It is a good combination in terms of taste; it makes diet sodas taste a bit sweeter, but with a more natural flavor and not the typically harsh sugar free sweetness.  I didn’t notice any bitterness from the added vitamins, which was a good thing.  At the same time, I can’t say I enjoyed it all that much.  It still has that bland Diet Coke flavor, only with a slightly sweeter taste.  As for the vitamins and minerals, I’ll stick to taking multivitamins.  

So, unfortunately, even though “stupid soda ideas with short time frames before they disappear” are so beloved by myself, Diet Coke Plus wasn’t too interesting.  It certainly wasn’t bad, and if someone had it around, I’d have some.  However, I doubt I would actually purchase or order it myself.  It’s safe to say the only time I will be using the words Diet Coke Plus when ordering a drink, is when that phrase is immediately followed by the word “rum”.

 

Since this article is depressingly lacking in visual aids, here is a picture of me playing Pokemon Diamond.  The Diet Coke Plus is in the background.  I would have taken a solo picture but, sadly, my shelf was too messy.

 

Once Upon a Life Saver

Posted by robbposch on April 28, 2007
Posted in: Candy. Leave a comment

Today, I was in CVS, somewhere I don’t shop very frequently.  I admit, that may not sound interesting. Actually, scratch the “may”… that definitely wasn’t interesting.  It is still a bit odd, since you would assume everyone on Long Island shops in CVS every day, and possibly multiple times a day.  In my neighborhood, there are more CVS’s than Starbucks.  There actually aren’t any Starbucks around me; Dunkin’ Donuts have been kicking their ass lately in terms of rash-like growth.  There is, however, a CVS on nearly every block.  

(Insert awkward silence here.)  

This is one of the worst starts to an article I have ever had.

Before extrapolating on a completely irrelevant tangent, the whole point of the previous paragraph was in the first five words: Today, I was in CVS.  It is a very simple, humble beginning to my tale of triumph and rebirth of faith in humanity.  

I was not in there to buy one of the more popular items sold at CVS (batteries, condoms, $24.99 copies of Miss Congeniality on DVD), I was in there for a far more shameful reason: purchasing diet orange soda.  Granted, it may not seem overly shameful, but it really is.  If you’re going to drink orange, grape, or a similarly childish flavor of soda, at least go all out and get the full sugar variety.  Diet versions of these sodas seem like a cop out.  Nevertheless, I did, and I enjoyed it.  So back off.

While in CVS, I decided to pick up a bag of candy.  This is a good thing to keep in your desk at work, so when you get bored just sitting there, you can do something fun to occupy your time: unwrapping the tiny, individually wrapped pieces.  Okay, it’s not that much fun, but it’s better than other time killing activities.  My current favorite is an old standby of mine: opening the Windows clock / calendar, and seeing what day of the week my birthday, Christmas, and other holidays will be decades into the future.  I also like looking at dates in the 2090’s and thinking about the fact that by then, I will be dead.

Like every good story with a happy ending, the hero (me) must endure some sort of hardship, to make the eventual joy that much greater.  As you can surely imagine, my trials in CVS were epic clashes within myself, that gave me a better perspective of who I truly was as a person.  The battle raged on, my inner psyche daring me to come up with the answer to the age old question:  Which candy should I get?

While describing the problem I encountered may make it sound simple, until you are put in a similar position, you will never know what it is like.  Questions raced through my head: Should it be a hard candy?  Should it involve chocolate?  Should I try something new?

The first two questions were the hardest.  I tackled the third question first, to warm myself up on an easier challenge.  I knew that buying a giant bag of candy I have never had before would be a bold move, and unfortunately I don’t think I am quite bold enough for that.  If I don’t like it, I’m stuck with a bag of crappy candy.  I could theoretically give them away to coworkers, but that would involve me talking to other people, which is a challenge I am definitely not up for.

So I took the easy way out, and decided to go with a more familiar candy.  I eventually ruled out any chocolate or chewable candy, since my pacing of eating candy is a bit rushed, so any easily chewable candy would be ingested fast enough to make me likely to vomit.  Although vomiting would be a change of pace from the usual weekly routine.  I’ll keep that idea on the back burner for a day when I’m really bored at work.  

Also, choosing hard candy is engraved somewhere in my DNA.  My dad always has hard candy in his pockets.  I never have any of it, because they’re usually butterscotch pieces, and quite frankly I don’t want to eat something that has been pre-warmed by being next to a relative’s thigh for extended periods of time.

Eventually, the choice was made.  For some unknown reason, I was very interested in a bag of sugar free “5 Flavor” Life Savers.  I don’t think I have ever bought a roll of fruit Life Savers in my entire life.  I may have bought a roll of Pep-O-Mint, until I graduated to the more high-tech Breath Savers.  Eventually, I settled on gum as my go-to breath freshener, quite possibly due to the latent obnoxiousness of chewing it.

The actual name Life Savers is an interesting choice.  It certainly makes sense, given their inner tube shape.  However, it is odd they would associate the candy with an item that is directly linked to tragedy.  When would you need a life saving tube, if you are not in the midst of jumping from a boat?  After deciding that risking the water is a better choice than remaining on a sinking boat where you will be crushed between splintering planks of wood or impaled on a harpoon, you leap overboard, clutching the tube.  There you will remain, bobbing in the water, until you are painfully eaten alive by sharks.  Why would a candy company want to name their product after a situation that can only end this way?

Besides, what if you jumped into the water with an actual Life Saver?  You would be doomed.  They’re water soluble!  Although once the candy dissolved, you would be able to decide whether you would rather die by drowning, being eaten by sharks, or floating on a piece of debris until you die of dehydration.  And after all, that’s what makes America so great: choices.

I must admit, I was strangely attracted to the “5 Flavor” subtitle.  I’m not sure why, it was just such a wonderful description… specific and vague at the same time.  It was a candy paradox.  Unlocking the mysteries of this five flavor assortment was an adventure I was willing to go on.

It wasn’t that bold of an adventure; I have done more interesting things in my life than buy a pack of Life Savers.  Although admittedly, not many more.  I already cracked the “5 Flavor” code: cherry, orange, lime, pineapple, and raspberry.  The only reason I know pineapple is a flavor is because of a Mitch Hedberg joke, so I had some help on that one.  I never would have guessed that one; pineapple is a pretty random flavor to include in an “original” assortment.  Although I am glad they chose it.  I like pineapple, and am glad I don’t have to venture into the treacherous territory of “Tropical” assortments, which would invariably contain some sort of vile banana flavor.

Upon returning to the office, I decided to have a cherry flavored Life Saver first.  I figured since I hate cherry Starbursts (an opinion my goth friend Dersh appreciates, since that means I give him all of mine), I wouldn’t like cherry Life Savers.  So by eating them first, I would get them out of the way.  I was pleased to find out they taste remarkably similar to cherry flavored Luden’s cough drops.  Now, that might not be the best taste ever, but Luden’s were the closest you could come to eating candy in class in elementary school.  For this reason, they are held in fond memory by myself, and I would assume many others.  

A little while later, I decided I would try another flavor, this time lime.  I don’t mind lime flavored things, but I wasn’t looking forward to it very much.  I removed the green Life Saver from the bag, and placed it in my mouth.  All of a sudden, I was besieged by immediate and overwhelming confusion.  After a few moments of attempting to regain a clear head, one thing became imminently clear: this wasn’t lime.   It was watermelon!

! ! !


Granted, I wasn’t dreading eating the lime Life Saver.  But when you’re expecting lime, and get watermelon? That’s like watching an episode of a show you like that you think is going to be a repeat, and discovering it is a new, hour long episode.  I was overjoyed.  While I can’t claim it to be my favorite flavor, watermelon is almost always awesome.  Watermelon Jolly Ranchers, Laffy Taffy (which the chocolate chip “seeds” = YES), Sour Starbursts… watermelon is the go-to flavor for maximum deliciousness.

The Life Saver also reminded me that soon, soon, Wattamelon Rolls would make their triumphant return to Friendly’s.  Wattemelon Rolls are quite possibly my favorite food ever.  I admit I say that about a lot of things, but this time it rings true.  Wattamelon Rolls, cereal, and celery.  I could live off of that.  Until I died of malnourishment, anyway.  But oh, the joy that awaits me, and will soon be upon me!  My love of Wattamelon Rolls are indeed shared by my emo friend Jeff (but between you and me, my love is more true).  We once consumed an entire Wattamelon Roll by ourselves.  Unfortunately, this gluttonous tale would have been better in our intended location.  We ordered an entire roll while seated at Friendly’s, and they wouldn’t serve it to us.  They said we could only be served individual slices.  We asked if they could ring up a box, and just give us two plates and spoons.  But it was not to be.  We had to take our roll to go, and consume it at his house.

So between the lime into watermelon transformation (you will notice that is not unlike the water into wine miracle), and the reminder that my depressing, Wattamelon Roll-less fall and winter would soon be over, my day was looking fantastic.  

I was reminded of the words of poet laureate William “Billy” Corgan, when he wrote “Today is the greatest day I’ve ever known.”  And while it is possible that statement may be slight overstatement for my situation, it comes quite close.  Of course, in the video for that song, Corgan is running loose in a desert, driving an ice cream truck.  He is free to eat untold amounts of Screwballs, Lick-A-Colors, and WWF ice cream bars.  Lucky bastard.

Cereal Review: Disney’s Princess Fairytale Flakes

Posted by robbposch on March 31, 2007
Posted in: Cereal Reviews, Disney, Food, Food Review. Tagged: , , , . Leave a comment

Given my relative simplicity, keeping myself happy and entertained isn’t too difficult.  I’m not getting philosophical, mulling over my ability to achieve true happiness, or any such nonsense.  No one is actually happy; if someone says they are, they’re lying and should be punished for their false witnessing.  Personally, I’ve found the most sure-fire way to come closest to true happiness is through a series of small victories.  I might never actually like myself, be pleased with my level of success, or have any sense of pride, so dwelling on that will only lead to crippling depression. 

This is off to a horrible, melancholic start. We need to turn the mood around and do a complete 140.  Not a full 180 since, well… it’s not going to get that much better in here.

I figure a constant diet of small, superficial distractions will provide me some semblance of steady joy.  If I never achieve any sort of nirvana, it will be okay, since hopefully I will be too entertained by nutritionally-devoid food and pop-culture minutia to notice anything is lacking.  Is this a poor method?  Almost definitely.  On the other hand, it is easy and focuses on instant gratification, two of my favorite qualities.

That said, there are a lot of people familiar with my favorite things in life, from reading this site.  And if you are familiar with my favorite things from methods other than reading this site, that’s kind of creepy.  Stop it.  Point being, I found something while shopping recently, that fills many of my criteria for a truly awesome product.

While browsing the cereal aisle (I went with “browsing, because it makes me look much less maniacal then the more accurate “analyzing”), my attention was immediately drawn to a very bright, garishly colored section of boxes.  Upon closer inspection, I discovered it was an assortment of new Disney cereals.  This seemed like the perfect combination of traits: cereal, Disney, and something that probably won’t be around for too much longer.  Unfortunately, further inspection made me realize that these cereals were actually pretty lame.  Disney has had its fair share of cereals in the past (that Pooh Honey Bee cereal was awesome), but this line seemed especially lazy.

Mickey’s cereal was some sort of Trix-Fruity Pebbles bastardization; the Little Einsteins cereal did as well, except it was star shaped.  Finally, the Princess cereal appeared to be simply Frosted Flakes.  Sadly, even my normally impulsive decision making skills couldn’t convince me to buy any of them.  I wanted to want them, but unfortunately the interest just wasn’t there.  When I see a new, interesting cereal, I get far more excited than most people do, or should.  Unfortunately, the Disney cereals didn’t spark anything inside me; they didn’t make my blood flow quicken or my eyes dilate, or anything else my cereal lust tends to do to me.

As luck would have it, when I got home that night, there it was – the Princess cereal.  Admittedly, that’s not very exciting.  Trust me, there was no sense of “wow” or “hey!”, it was more of an understated “Huh, look at that.”  Regardless, the tiny bit of weirdness of the cereal being home after just having seen it was interesting enough to resuscitate my curiosity just enough.

 

The sad fact is this cereal has almost nothing going for it.  Actually, that’s not true.  Its box has the Disney Princesses on it; its bright coloring drawing children’s eyes towards it.  Luckily for Disney, putting their Princesses on a product is as close as they can legally come to Disney printing its own money.  The Princesses are Disney’s most popular sellers, making them their hottest line.  And by hot, I mean “very popular”, not “very attractive”.  

Okay fine, I meant it in that way as well.

I will clarify that the cereal line has lots going for it, simply for being Disney branded.   What I mean is the actual cereal, the food you wind up eating, has almost nothing going for it.  The Princess cereal is just Frosted Flakes.  In fact, it’s even weirder than Frosted Flakes; it looks like Frosted Product 19.  Except for one, truly awesome, difference: it’s pink.

So without much fanfare, I ate a bowl of the cereal.  And you will never guess how it actually tastes.

Well, you actually can guess how it tastes.  In fact, I’m sure of it.  It tastes okay.  I will actually give it a slightly higher grade, a “Pretty Good”.  And that’s what you would expect.  Frosted Flakes are pretty good.  Their biggest strength is that you never get sick of them.  There are certain cereals I love, but I wouldn’t want to eat box after box of them in a row; I need a break.  Frosted Flakes, I could pretty much eat nonstop.  I might not be too happy about it, but it wouldn’t be bad.  What I like to do best with Frosted Flakes is use them to dilute another cereal, like Raisin Bran.  This way I can eat a giant bowl of Raisin Bran, and not have to worry about violent stomach cramping, since the Frosted Flakes will help ease the massive fiber assault.

Would I buy the Disney Princess cereal again?  No.  But then again, I didn’t even buy them in the first place, so that seems like a pretty good deal to me.  I also have to worry about upholding my reputation.  Can a tough, manly man be seen buying Princess cereal without looking foolish?  No, and neither can I.

Candy Review: The Yorkie Bar

Posted by robbposch on February 24, 2007
Posted in: Candy, Food, Food Review. Tagged: , , , . Leave a comment

I contemplated starting this off by declaring myself an Anglophile.  Then, after giving it some serious thought (eight seconds), I realized that’s not entirely accurate.  I have no real interest in the history of England.  Nor am I interested in the architecture or most of the culture.  I simply am an avid consumer of British entertainment.  And I also find the Union Jack’s aesthetics to be wonderful.  I also really wish I had an English accent, but some things are just not meant to be.

My three favorite musical acts are all British.  The Beatles, The Smiths, and Depeche Mode.  If I had to count Morrissey separately from The Smiths, he’d be in the four spot.  Hell, probably the majority of my top ten acts are probably British as well.  Except I don’t have an official top ten.  “Favorites” list that are officially ranked past the first five places are uncivilized.

I first saw my favorite currently running show, Extras, after downloading episodes that aired on the BBC.  Even just saying “BBC” is fun.  “What’s on the BBC tonight?  ‘Are You Being Served?’  Ugh.  Well, looks like I’ll be reading a book!”  Awesome.  

Which leads us, of course, into the subject of English candy.  When I was in London, I bought a Big Kat, before they were introduced in the US.  I am rather surprised they made the trip “over the pond” (awesome), because Big Kats are awful.  You completely screwed up the chocolate to crisp ratio, Hershey!  Some things are simply too delicate to be messed with.

Point being, my history with English candy is not an entirely great one.  Until, that is, about a year ago when I first saw the wrapper for the Yorkie bar.  I didn’t care what kind of candy it was.  What drew me in was the wrapper, which is attention grabbing to say the least.  Next to the Yorkie name, was a big picture of the symbol for the women’s bathroom, in a crossed out circle.  That’s a horrible description.  Is there an official term for those crossed out circle things?  That sounds like a child describing it.



Beneath the name and symbol, is the tag line “IT’S NOT FOR GIRLS!”  What the hell?

Upon seeing this, thoughts raced through my mind.  What kind of food is this, that makes it unacceptable for girls to eat?  Is it made of synthetic testosterone?  Beard stubble?

The next thought I had was, imagine the whirlwind of fury that would occur should this be released in the US.  As humorous as the tag line is supposed to be, we all know that Americans have no sense of humor about humorous things.  Taken at face value, the tag line is quite offensive.  What if it said “IT’S NOT FOR JEWS!”?  “IT’S NOT FOR THE HANDICAPPED!”?  “WHITES ONLY!”  

But of course, people who aren’t ignorant or involved in politics realize that the “IT’S NOT FOR GIRLS!” slogan is meant completely in jest.  It’s not offensive.  If it is, it’s offensive in the same way Mountain Dew’s advertising is offensive to the elderly or out of shape.  Or in the way a BMW ad is offensive to poor people.  Or, most accurately, it’s as offensive as calling a large TV dinner a Hungry Man.  Actually, I take that back.  Hungry Man TV dinners are offensive.  How dare they insinuate that I would reduce myself to eating something like that?  I’ll stick to my string cheese and ramen noodles, thank you very much.

As is often the case, all of this excitement faded, and my interest in this curious item waned fairly quickly.

Until the day one arrived at my door.  Without warning.

I literally had no idea it would be arriving.  I was expecting a package from someone, and this had been thrown in there as an extra accompaniment.  As if something of this magnitude could be “just something extra”.  The inclusion of the Yorkie bar was described by the sender as “a surprise”.  An understatement of that magnitude borders on perverse.  Having this sent to you unannounced is a surprise on the level of finding out your father is actually your own son.  Yeah, it’s that deep.

And there it was.  In my hands.  Its shiny blue wrapper, filled with delicious misogyny.  But what do I do with it?  That answer wound up being rather simple, and pretty inglorious:  leave it on my desk.

I will admit, I am usually awful at making decisions.  My answer to where I want to eat is “I don’t know”.  My answer to a yes or no question is “I guess”.  I don’t know what I want to order from the drive thru until it’s my turn, forcing me to go into a panic, and order $12 worth of food from Taco Bell.  It also happens at restaurants; I don’t make up my mind until the waiter asks me, which results in me hurriedly picking something, and being filled with immediate remorse.

Given that enthralling history lesson, it is understandable that I didn’t do anything with the Yorkie bar.  What could I do, eat it?  Absolutely not.  Then I couldn’t show it to people.  I couldn’t show it to girls and say, “You can’t have this; it’s not for you.”  I know what you’re thinking, but don’t be too surprised… sometimes my humor does get that intellectual.

Eventually, I gave up.  I couldn’t resist.  I had to know.  What lay beneath the confines of the wrapper?  Was it a hulking mass, awkward and lumpy like a Baby Ruth?  In fact, that’s the only thing I thought it could be.  What better shape for a manly candy bar than the shape of man himself: awkward and lumpy.  It would be a deep, rich brown.  With lots of pieces sticking out.  It will contain almonds, peanuts, Twizzlers, bolts, entire Brazil nuts.  This is what must make up such a glorious, manly piece of food.

So I did the unthinkable… I disrobed the mighty Yorkie bar.

It’s hard to describe my reaction to the exposed bar.  How do I put into words the complex feelings making the emotional round-trip commute from my heart to my mind?  How can human vocabulary somehow seem so ineffectual, so… limited?  I pondered this, and after making a movie-montage effort, I came up with this to describe the way I felt:

: – \

Come on, are you kidding me?  The legendary Yorkie bar was simply a bland looking series of boxes?  

 

My disappointment was great, but it was not yet at boiling point.  It was gently simmering over medium to low heat.  I still had hope for the candy itself, but the initial blow of disappointment was proving hard to recover from.  Steadying myself, I trudged on.  I hefted the admittedly heavy bar, and went for it.  This time, my feelings and emotions were clear:

>:O

IT IS PLAIN MILK CHOCOLATE.

 

I give up.

Then I became self conscious.  Was I feeling this disappointment because I was not meant to enjoy this?  Was I somehow breaking their “NOT FOR GIRLS” commandment?  Were they demeaning my masculinity?  Well screw that.  At least I’m not the one that tastes like crap.

When I get a Hershey assortment, the first thing I do is what every other sensible person does: immediately try to get rid of the plain Hershey bars.  Whether that means giving them to someone who doesn’t know any better or throwing them out, it doesn’t matter.  Just get them away from me.  And Krackle barely makes the cut; it gets the chocolate GED.

So don’t tell me that I am expected to take a mound of milk chocolate and like it.  And don’t you DARE tell me that not liking it makes me less of a man.  Trust me, there are many more things in my life that make me less of a man.  Distaste for awful candy bars is not one of them.

England, you may have your creative music, your wonderfully dry humor, your adorable accents and phrases, and a overall better way of life.  But if you think you have superior candy output, you’re crazy.  A Take 5 bar kicks the Yorkie bar square in the nuts.  Oh I forgot, it doesn’t have any.  OH SNAP.

God Bless America!

Christmas Celebration 2006

Posted by robbposch on December 24, 2006
Posted in: Holidays. Tagged: , . Leave a comment 


It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark
When I seen a man chilling with his dog in the park
I approached him very slowly with my heart full of fear
Looked at his dog, oh my God, an ill reindeer
But then I was illin because the man had a beard
And a bag full of goodies, 12 o'clock had neared
So I turned my head a second and the man had gone
But he left his driver's wallet smack dead on the lawn
I picked the wallet up then I took a pause
Took out the license and it cold said "Santa Claus"
A million dollars in it, cold hundreds of G's
Enough to buy a boat and matching car with ease
But I'd never steal from Santa, cause that ain't right
So I was going home to mail it back to him that night
But when I got home I bugged, cause under the tree
Was a letter from Santa and the dough was for me

This update serves two purposes.  The first is to reiterate the fact that Christmas in Hollis is the 
greatest Christmas song ever.  Second, it is to warn everyone that sending cash through the mail
is never a good idea.  Come on, Run, you should know better.  But your heart was in the right place,

so we all forgive you.

Merry Christmas!

My Best Friend: A Tribute

Posted by robbposch on November 15, 2006
Posted in: Disney. Tagged: , , , .

In good conscience, I feel I should warn you up front.  This article probably won’t be very interesting at all.

This article isn’t for you, it isn’t even for me.  This is simply a tribute to my best friend in the whole world.

Let me tell you the story of how we met.

The last time the lady and I were in Florida, we made our routine stop at Downtown Disney.  When you really think about it, Downtown Disney truly is the ideal place to go to get a true taste of Disney Magic.  There are no rides, no games, and no characters walking around.  All there is to do is eat and shop.  It really bucks the trend of the usual routine, where Disney at least pretends to want to entertain you and make lasting memories for you and your family.

Instead, Downtown Disney trims all the fat (metaphorically, definitely not literally) and boils it down to “You really do need to eat that five scoop Ghiradelli sundae.  And yes, that cookie jar that looks like Mickey’s crotch will look great in your house, and won’t at all make you the Disney equivalent of the weird cat lady.”

So after buying the Mickey crotch cookie jar, we went into their “Everything’s Under $10” store.  I love this store for the fact that you always think you’re getting a great deal, when in fact it’s just all the crap from other stores that normally costs less than ten bucks, all grouped together in one store. 

While in here, I met my destiny.  I mean density.  Wait.  Uh, never mind.   

 

I came upon a shelf of solar powered bobble heads.  They had baby Dumbo, baby Stitch, baby Eeyore, baby Donald, and baby Mickey.  These were the cutest things I have ever seen in my life.  The biggest question was would it be Donald or Mickey?  Donald is my favorite Disney character, so I figured it would be an easy call.  However, Donald’s smaller head had his bobble going at an alarmingly fast rate.  So after an embarrassingly long decision process, I went with Mickey.

And the rest is history.

Or, more accurately, the present. 

I finally brought the bobble into work.  I’m still somewhat new to my job, so my day consists of a couple hours of work that I am given, a short period of confusion as I don’t know what to do next, followed by about six hours of staring at a wall.  But not any more.

 

Now my new, awesome day consists of: a couple hours of work that I am given, a short period of confusion as I don’t know what to do next, followed by about six hours of staring at the Mickey bobble head.

The solar powered action never stops.  All day long, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

And yes I know it seems like it would get annoying.  It would seem like that to someone like you.  A non-believer.  Someone who hasn’t had their life blessed by three inches of Disney magic.  At least in the non-gross way.

 

I will admit that sometimes the pleasant swaying does need to get changed up sometimes.  I need to remix the bobble.  When moments like these occur, a simple  piece of paper to cover the solar panel is all I need.  Once the darkened solar panel is drained of life, the Mickey becomes still.  I remove the paper, giving life to the very thing which gives me inspiration throughout the day.  Just like… The Circle of Life.  Whoa.

Once the solar panels begin receiving their fluorescent fuel, it still takes a while for the bobbling to come back to life.  You have no idea how intense this is.  Sitting there, looking at a still Mickey, just waiting, waiting, for it to spring to life.  When will it happen?  I don’t know!  It could happen at any point, it’s been a couple minutes now, it shouldn’t be much…

 

YES!

And, just like that, my day has been improved one hundredfold. 

And thus ends my tribute to my best friend, who gives me joy and the strength to go on, in the face of any adversity.  What the hell has your best friend done?

Coca Cola Scandal!

Posted by robbposch on November 9, 2006
Posted in: Soda Reviews. Tagged: , , . Leave a comment

So now Coca Cola is running ads where it shows a glass with vanilla ice cream in it, as soda slowly pours on top of it while a T Rex song plays in the background (which really was the best part of the commercial).  As the glass fills, the camera pans around, to show the Coca Cola logo on the glass.  The tagline reads, “You had a good run, root beer.”

Get the hell out of here.

Root beer floats for life.

 

Halloween Spectacular!

Posted by robbposch on October 29, 2006
Posted in: Holidays. Tagged: , . 1 Comment

As you already know, Halloween is right around the corner (literally! (okay not literally, but in a way it is (houses around the corner from me are decorated (although I don’t know if that counts (can you even put parentheses within parentheses? I know you can in math, but I’m not trying to multiply my poorly thought out sentence fragments.  I have enough stupidity here, the last thing I need is stupidity squared.  How many closing parentheses do I even need, I don’t feel like going back to check.  This should cover me.)))))))))

As Halloween approaches, many important questions come to mind:

  • How come it always sucks?

Okay, so it was only one question.  But you have to admit, it was important.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the Halloween season.  LOVE <3 :-* .  The themed everything makes October so much more enjoyable. 

Halloween themed Zip-Loc bags?  Why not. 

Halloween themed cereals?  Of course.

Those houses in your neighborhood that do a great job with Halloween decorating?  Definitely. 

Those houses in your neighborhood that really decorate their yards, turning them into full fledged cemeteries filled with near-inappropriate gore, life sized monsters, and broadcast sound effect CDs?  The houses that make you contemplate the possibility that maybe the people that live there truly are deranged and the extensive decorating is a cry for help?  Hell yes.

Point being, Halloween is like Christmas, in that you have lots of time to get in the mood of the season.  The difference is that Christmas day is usually enjoyable.  You have off from work, and can spend the whole day doing Christmas related things.  Unless you don’t celebrate Christmas, in which case I guess you spend the whole day watching DVDs.

With Halloween, you have a 5 out of 7 chance of having to go to work.  So much of the day is spent going to work.  Unless you don’t have a job, which means all of your day is spent being a burden on society.  Driving home from work sucks, since you’re extra paranoid about hitting a costumed kid. 

Halloween night usually works one of two ways in my house.  We either buy way too much candy and no one comes to the house, and we have lots left over.  This is a good scenario.  Or we buy a normal amount of candy, lots of kids come to the house, and we have to find random things in the house to give out when our candy runs out, like hard candy or Little Debbies.  This scenario isn’t too bad, especially for the kids.  Who doesn’t want Zebra Cakes?

Even when Halloween is on Sunday, you still know you have to be up early the next day, so that ruins it.

When Halloween is on a Saturday it will rain and you will have food poisoning.

So Halloween is a waste.

However, this year has resulted in one more benefit to the season.  Halloween stores are always cool.  Unfortunately, they are often in malls, quickly thrown together in whatever empty store happens to be in the mall that month.  This year, more Spirit Halloween stores were popping up on Long Island than the polo collars of people who spike the back of their hair.

Spirit Halloween stores are awesome.  They do the same thing as mall stores, in that they rent whatever happens to be available that month, except these stores really go for it.  I went in with Amy to look around, expecting the typical weak Halloween store.  Inside, we were greeted with hundreds of costumes, masks, props, decorations, everything you could want except for an aisle where you could buy a friend willing to host a Halloween party.  Those are harder to come by.

While driving by it recently, I saw a big orange sign (orange signs during Halloween…creative!) that read “Everything 50% Off!”  Which in my language roughly translates into “Now you don’t have to feel as bad about spending money on useless crap.”

Unfortunately, I had a sudden attack of fiscal responsibility, so I couldn’t buy as much as I’d like.  Even still, $3.85 was enough to buy me two costumes.  Or emergency disguises if the need to commit crimes occurs suddenly.

 

Creepy Blank Face Guy

 

 

There’s not too much that can be said about this.  The title sums it up quite nicely.  I used to have this type of mask when I was younger, and used it to harass my sister on vacation by following her around while wearing it. 

You can wear just the mask to look disturbing.  Or you can wear this mask with a suit to look classy.  Think “Phantom of the Opera”, except with a 100% screwed up face.  If Phantom’s half grotesque face was such a success, an entirely grotesque face should mean twice the profits.  So just by wearing this mask, you will be on your way to financial security, but an empty heart.  Is leading a life of wealth worth it if it means you can never love?

Of course.

 

 

Normally, I would think posting a blurry picture to be unprofessional.  Which is why I am donating all proceeds from this article to charity.

However, the blurriness makes for a good reenactment of your vision after being bludgeoned by a deranged maniac for walking around his neighborhood covered in shaving cream.

So maybe he’s not that deranged.

 

Creepy Sex Pervert Guy

 

Again, the title sums it up well.  These masks truly do creep me out.  I used to have one of these masks also, except it was the “plain” variety.  Even that was weird looking enough.  Something about the anonymity combined with the shininess makes for an unsettling visual.  I don’t like when peoples’ faces are made of plastic wrap.  This mask ups the ante with lipstick and huge, Groucho Marx eyebrows. 

I can’t even go on further.  It’s just terrible and visually offensive to look at.

It is now clear that the best method on Halloween would be to buy the pervert mask and wear it when children come to your door.  They will see it and run in fear.  This means not only do you get to keep your candy for yourself, but the children may drop some of their own candy as they run.  And hopefully it will be Bottle Caps.