July 2003 Archives

Today was a dark day for my mouth, for it was today that I discovered the new "Mojo Bar" in Curry Cashew flavor.

Before I could even swallow my only bite, I learned that while I do like curry, I do not like curry in "bar form."

In all fairness, it bills itself as a snack bar, and not a "candy bar," but I'll explain how I was tricked. For the last two weeks at work we've had a box of Honey Peanut Mojo Bars that I've been hitting pretty hard. They aren't the sweetest, but they certainly fall under the general umbrella of "sweet." I like them a lot. In fact, I urge you all to give those a try.

Today I met their evil twin. On the back of the wrapper, Gary the creator says: "Over the years, lots of folks have asked me to make a bar that they can use as a snack, one that's a little less sweet..."

Apparently Gary was mad at these folks.

I've given it a little thought and I think I've come up with a really cute slogan. It goes: MOJO Curry Cashew Bar -- the only candy bar that says "F You" to your mouth. I dunno. Maybe that's a tad edgy, but I think it's got zazz. (If the Mojo Bar people like that, they can have it. They don't even have to pay me.) They can also have: The only candy bar that will F your mouth in the A. Or the simple, yet elegant: MOJO -- Oh Nojo.

The good news is, for all of us out there who have been looking for a candy bar with bay leaves in it, the search is finally over.

We all know Boo Berry as the lovable spokesghost for General Mills' Boo Berry cereal. But since he is a ghost, I can't help but think about the fact that he's dead. Or more specifically, he is the ghost of a dead man.

This raises a very curious question: Who was the man that died to become the ghost of Boo Berry? No one would argue that he's lived a rich after-life as a corporate shill, but who was he before that? And for that matter, how did he die? Slipping on a blueberry and breaking his spine? Getting crushed by a blueberry truck? Emphysema?

This puzzle was likely to be a mystery forever... UNTIL NOW.

Using the latest in forensic technologies (My friend Mark and a pencil), Thesneeze.com is proud to present a shocking, never-before-seen image of Boo Berry as he may have looked BEFORE he died.

BooBerry is dead. LONG LIVE BOOBERRY!

My friend's cousin just lost 230 pounds. Damn. That's a lot of weight. He went from 485 pounds down to 255! I tip my hat to him. (Okay, I'm not really wearing a hat. And if I were, I wouldn't actually tip it. That's gay. But you get the point. )

Anyway– (But now I guess I should apologize to the gay community for my insensitive use of the word "gay." That wasn’t cool. Gay community, I'm sorry.)

Okay. Where were we? Oh yes, the weight loss-- I'm happy that he lost all that weight, but here's the thing- when you’re already 485 pounds, I say: GO FOR 500! C’mon! It’s only 15 pounds away. That’s like two Bloomin’ Onions at The Outback and you're done. Then you can go ahead and lose all the weight you want.

I know, I know… I’m missing the point. Now he'll be "healthy." Now he'll "live longer." Now he won't be a "giant load." Believe me, I know. I was the fat kid that everyone picked on until I was 18 years old. I'm not an insensitive prick. What my friend's cousin did was truly an impressive feat.

But 500 would have been pretty cool.

Follow along with the rise and fall of the "Ironic Trucker Hat" trend:

The Amazon.com "Associates Program" is pretty sweet. I allows me to link to items on Amazon, and when people click on something and buy it I get paid up to 15% of the cost of the item.

Now, the only thing cooler than that is this incredible 40,000 Watt Emergency Automatic Home Standby Generator available right now at Amazon.com for only $10,499.00!

I give it 5 out of 5 stars!

This crazy machine will actually let you create your own electricity! You can harness the power of this electricity you "generate" to do all sorts of useful things. Make dark rooms bright. Execute really naughty criminals. Or operate a powerful bug-zapper. West Nile Virus is nothing to mess around with!

If I were you I'd click here immediately, and more importantly, purchase at least one 40,000 Watt Emergency Automatic Home Standby Generator right now.

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My son doesn't like vegetables. Except for that one he had an affair with.

I had Tivo'd an episode of "Good Eats." This one happened to be about cabbage and my three-year-old saw it. For whatever reason he liked it, and asked to see it a few times that week.

While I was at the supermarket, I decided to surprise him and bring home an actual real-life cabbage. When I presented it, he flipped out. The boy carried it off to his room and played with it for almost an hour, rolling it around, pretending to cook it, and who knows what else. I think he felt like he was hanging out with a celebrity since he'd been seeing so much cabbage on TV lately. When I asked if he wanted me to really cut it up and cook it for him, he almost burst into tears.

Later that night I put my son to bed, and just as he was dozing off, he bolted up and screamed "I WANT MY CABBAGE! I WANT MY CABBAGE!" I wasn't going to fight with him. He's three, he'd win. I just wanted him to go to sleep, so I gave him the stupid cabbage.

I swear to God, he lugged that cabbage around for the next week and a half. He took naps with it. He brought it for rides in the car. He even threw a tantrum when we wouldn't let him bring it into Toys 'R Us.

As a concerned father, I was getting a little worried that he and the cabbage were rushing into things. I mean, they had just met. But nine days after it began, the love affair was over. The cabbage was OUT. Tossed aside without so much as a kiss goodbye, or even an explanation. And to be honest, that was fine by me. Don't get me wrong. I'm not a racist or anything. I like cabbage. I just don't want my boy dating one.

It took a long time, but I finally have mad skillz. I'm telling you, I am off the heezy. Granted, it's on Playstation 2, but that's besides the point.

The best part about NBA Street Vol 2, is that it allowed me to create myself in the game. From my perennial stubble to my stupid fresh threads. And now I'm a 5' 8" b-ballin' menace.

I have seen the view from above the rim, and I like it. In fact, after I had kicked enough ass on the court (or as I like to call it, "My House"), the game announcer granted me my own official nickname: "Rain." Because when I'm playing it rains buckets. Oh yes, ladies. You know you like that shiznit.

I now encourage you all to get your hands on NBA Street Vol 2 and do the very same thing. Create a character that looks exactly like me. Just be sure to name him Rain.

Peace!

Any good financial advisor will tell you that you’re never too young to have a sound retirement plan. I couldn’t agree more. Here’s mine: On my 70th birthday, I start shooting heroin. Right there at the party. Next to the cake.

This may sound a tad extreme, but I’ve learned two things from watching VH1’s "Behind the Music":

1) Heroin ruins everything. Rock stars are willing to lose it all just to get more heroin.

2) Heroin must be pretty awesome. Rock stars are willing to lose it all just to get more heroin.

Right now, I'm a clean-cut nerd with responsibilities. I have a house and a family to support. That's why I'm just going to ruin the end of my life. So, while all my wrinkly-ass friends are buying Craftmatic beds and trying to remember their names, Grandpappy Steve’s gonna be shooting junk. I’m going to be a withered mad man with liver spots and track marks.

In fact, when I hit 70 I may go crazy altogether-- get tattoos on my face, sleep with whores and finally have the balls to curse out those women who write checks in the express lane at the supermarket. It's gonna be great.

Plan for the future, kids. It's important!

When I see a new toy like Sea Monkeys on Mars, only one word comes to mind... finally. Why should these precocious little fellers be bound to the Earth like the rest of us? I know they're still going to die in a day and half, but now it's on Mars! Which is the reason I have no choice but to elevate this site (and the nation) to a Code Orange Toy Alert.

I must admit as cool as this toy is, I don't fully understand the concept. Are the Sea Monkeys supposed to be living in a dome of water on the surface of Mars? Or is the dome of water supposed to represent some type of weightless atmosphere the Sea Monkeys are floating around in? Mars has gravity, so I'm not sure why they'd be floating.

Unless, a tiny Sea Monkey is light enough to float around in the reduced gravity of Mars. In fact, now I'm sure that's it, because I know the people who make Sea Monkeys would never put out a toy that wasn't based on reality. I mean, think of the trouble they went to to make the drawings of the Sea Monkeys on the box look accurate.

If you've been feeling a little blue lately... If the "Man" has yet again been holding you down... if you've come to the realization that you're probably going to die without making any difference in the world... Cheer up! Now you can buy happiness for only ten bucks. Click here to get yourself some Sea-Monkeys on Mars.

Happy July 4th! In honor of this fine Independence Day, I thought I'd tell you of the time President Gerald Ford totally F'd me in the A.

I'm an only child. When I was a kid, television meant A LOT to me. It was all I had. One particular Tuesday night in the mid-70's, my parents went out and left me at a babysitter's house. I didn't want to be there at all, but at least I could still watch my shows, because back then I was ALL about Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. Oh, yes. The hour of power. Everything was going fine until disaster struck. President Ford came on to give a State of The Union address right before Happy Days was about to start. What a dick!

And if that wasn't bad enough, this was before cable TV, so he was on EVERY CHANNEL. I was so upset I sat down and dashed off an angry letter to the President about what he had done. (Well, as angry as shaky block letters in pencil on wide-ruled paper can be.)

Some time went by, and I actually got a response back from the White House. It was from an aide to the President. He apologized to me and explained that it wasn't the President, but the networks themselves who donated the air time. Whatever.

I suppose it was nice that they even wrote back, but I'd just like to point out that during the next election, President Ford lost in a landslide to Jimmy Carter. I'm not saying it's because he pre-empted Happy Days and Laverne & Shirley. I'm just saying when it came time, no one voted for him. Draw your own conclusions.

A few years ago when I was working for Nick at Nite I actually got to tell this story to Cindy Williams, Michael McKean, and David Lander (Shirley, Lenny & Squiggy). They were all very cool, and really interested in hearing it. Or at least they pretended to be. And isn't that the type of moral fiber this great country was founded upon? I don't know what that means. I'm just looking for a patriotic way to end this. USA #1!

I bought a giant box of "Special K with Red Berries" at Costco. It's pretty good. But it has been troubling me that they call it "Red Berries," when the only berries in there are strawberries. Granted, strawberries are red, but that doesn't make it right. I called Kelloggs to get to the bottom of it.

Me: "Why is it called Red Berries when the only berries in there are strawberries? Why not call it Special K with Strawberries?"
Kelloggs: "Our marketing dept. is in charge of the names, so I'm not sure. I think it might have to do with the cereal being sold in other countries where there might be other berries in there. Such as raspberries."
Me: "Yes. I've heard of those. But wouldn't they have to print the box in a different language at that point?"
Kelloggs: "Not necessarily."
Me: "But they would have to change the picture on the box if there were raspberries in there, right? Because this picture only shows strawberries."
Kelloggs: "Ummm... Like I said, our marketing dept. is in charge of coming up with the names. I don't really know why."
Me: "Do you think they were trying to put one over on us to make it sound like there were a variety of berries in there when there really aren't?"
Kelloggs: "I don't think that was their intention, I'm sorry if that's what you thought when you bought it."
Me: "I only started thinking it after I got home. I just want to understand."
Kelloggs: "I don't have a good answer for you."

I think we've all learned something valuable from this conversation: Sweet Christ, I have no life.

Yesterday morning my three-year-old son got his first ever "scraped knee" hereby cementing his status as "Official Little Boy." Please take a moment to celebrate this milestone. Bactine for everyone! I'm buyin'!

To coincide with the release of X-Men 2, Baskin Robbins unveiled "Wolverine's Berry Rampage Sundae."

Okay. I don't know Wolverine personally, but I'm pretty sure he didn't sign off on this. Wolverine is a pissed off bad ass with razors in his arms. This dessert is not bad ass. This dessert spent the weekend lobbying for gay marriage rights.

Also, I promise that if I spent the next week thinking of nothing else, I could not come up with one reason that would set Wolverine, or anyone else, off on a "Berry Rampage." And if I could, I guarantee you that it would not involve sherbet.

My friend Kirker is from Kentucky. He has verified for me that the Unofficial State Sandwich of Kentucky is known as the "Hot Brown." There seems to be some controversy over whether or not it is made with gravy, or cheese. Whichever side you take, I think we can all agree that the name "Hot Brown" isn't vile and unfortunate at all.