Author: Marvo

Uncooked

Marvo 32 Comments

My first girlfriend in college loved giving me greeting cards.

If she loved me more than she loved greeting cards, we might still be together today. Of course, if we stayed together, we probably would’ve had eight kids by now, I would have high blood pressure, I’d be driving a minivan, have a mortgage, The Impulsive Buy definitely wouldn’t exist, and I wouldn’t be writing this review about Uncooked greeting cards.

I learned about her obsession with greeting cards during our first summer apart. She stayed for summer school at the university, while I went home to relax, play golf, and cheat on her.

I’m just kidding about the cheating…or am I? It doesn’t matter now.

Anyway, every week when we were apart, she sent me a greeting card with a letter written in it that let me know how much she missed me. On occasion, she would send me a slightly humorous Hallmark Shoebox greeting card, but most of the time it one of those really serious looking cards with a watercolor painting on the front and with a message in some kind of fancy script that’s usually found on old documents like the Declaration of Independence.

In that fancy script were words from some lonely greeting card writer that usually went something like this: “I watch the river flow by, but my thoughts of you stand still. I close my eyes and imagine that your soul is next to mine. Your image brings a smile to my face and fills my heart with joy, which shall satisfy me until we are able to see each other again.”

::shudder::

Her love of nauseating, overly-poetic, badly-written greeting cards and lack of enthusiasm when giving a BJ made me realize that perhaps she was not the girl for me. It also could’ve been the way she ended every letter with the words, “Your cute little muffin.”

For the record, I never called her my “cute little muffin.”

Okay, once I called her that, but she was the one who asked me in a cutely tone while we snuggled, “Am I your cute little muffin?” I was her boyfriend, so of course I’m supposed to say, “Yes, you are my cute little muffin,” then follow that up with a kiss, and then tell her, “Because you’re my cute little muffin I’m going to nibble on you. Nibble. Nibble.”

Yes, I had to say “Nibble. Nibble.” while I nibbled nibbled. It made it cute, okay? She liked it and that was the ONLY time I ever called her a “cute little muffin.”

Moving on…

Today, I still have all those cards she sent me and they sit in a box labeled in big Sharpie pen letters, “Stuff to Burn Later.” I actually wanted it to be labeled, “Stuff to Burn and Piss On Later,” but that was too many words if I was going to write in big Sharpie pen letters. Also in the box are things I regret having, like my Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch cassette single for “Good Vibrations” and a picture of me wearing woman’s bra while doing a handstand.

I can’t have either of those things around if I decide to run for elected office or if I don’t want anyone to blackmail me. Imagine the money I would have to pay for someone to keep their mouth shut about how I played that Marky Mark cassette over and over again thanks to auto-reverse cassette player technology.

Despite my sappy experiences with greeting cards, I actually like sending them to people. As a matter of fact, for Christmas a few years ago, I gave all my friends and family cards that each had one of fifty ways to get on Santa’s naughty list.

I’m really a fan of Uncooked greeting cards, which I bought a bunch of several months ago. Almost every card is shoot-milk-through-your-nose funny, usually in a dark and twisted way, which is the same way I like my women. There are cards for almost every occasion and feeling, from birthday to get well cards. Although, the lack of proper capitalization in all the cards gets the English major in me a little worked up.

Each card costs $3.25 plus shipping, which may seem a little pricey since you could get a $1.99 Hallmark card. Although, I don’t know about you, but all the people in my life right now are worth more than $1.99.

Besides, would you rather receive an Uncooked card that says, “some mornings when i really miss you i cry into my bowl of cereal and eat my tears” or receive a lame card that says, “The void in my heart can only be filled with your love, which seems so far away. When I stare at the moon, I imagine that it is you staring back at me. Because of this, my nights are full of joy, while my days are full of loneliness. I forward to the days and nights full of joy because you are by my side.”

::shudder::

Item: Uncooked
Price: $3.25 per card
Purchased at: Uncookedland.com
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Twisted funny cards. Free envelope. Cards for almost all occasions. The day I get to burn my box of “Stuff to Burn Later.” Auto-reverse cassette player technology.
Cons: Expensive for tightwads, but cheap for those who truly care about the card’s recipient and think money is trivial in terms of showing how much they care. Having to pay for shipping. Lack of capitalization. Nauseating, overly-poetic, badly-written greeting cards.

Diet Coke Plus

Marvo 39 Comments

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Hello.

Oh, it’s for you Diet Coke Plus. It’s the 1990s and it wants the color teal back for its prom dresses and expansion professional sports teams, like the Florida Marlins (1993), Jacksonville Jaguars (1995), and San Jose Sharks (1991).

Did someone make teal the new black this season and not tell me? Because in the late 1990s I bought a multiple-discounted pair of teal Tommy Hilfiger jeans from a red tag clearance rack for only $3.99 and I drank enough Coke over the years to finally fit into them. Seriously Coke, if you’re trying to restart the teal trend, I think you picked the wrong color. Although, you could’ve picked teal’s depressing greenish color cousin seafoam, which doesn’t look good on bridesmaid’s dresses or actual seafoam.

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Moshi moshi.

Again, it’s for you Diet Coke Plus. It’s plus-sized people and they know the “Plus” in your name is there only because of the 15% Niacin, 15% Vitamin B6, 15% Vitamin B12, 10% Magnesium, and 10% Zinc of your daily allowances per serving added to you that isn’t found in regular Diet Coke, but they want to let you know that using the word “plus” to market a product to plus-sized people might not work. It’s like how adding the name Kim Kardashian to the words “sex tape” won’t help sell many of the sex tapes.

Who’s Kim Kardashian? Exactly.

Oh yeah, the plus-sized people also want to let you know that they always voted for Sanjaya on American Idol.

Briiiing. Briiiing.

Hola.

Okay. Diet Coke Plus, you seriously need to get your own cell phone. Anyway, it’s my tongue and it wants to know why your older sister Diet Coke tastes like metal playground equipment, while you taste like Diet Coke but a little bit better, a little more tolerable, and with a much better aftertaste? In other words, if Helen Keller drank Diet Coke, I’m pretty sure she would be totally pissed off because to her the taste would probably feel like she lost another one of her senses, but I don’t think you would piss her off that much.

I’m not sure if the vitamins and minerals added made you taste better, Diet Coke Plus, but since you have those vitamins and minerals, taste slightly better, and have the same zero calorie, zero fat, low sodium content as Diet Coke, I think I’ll pick you to drink when I become plus-sized.

Item: Diet Coke Plus
Price: 99 cents (20 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Tastes slightly better than regular Diet Coke. Has vitamins and minerals added that’s not found in regular Diet Coke. Fat free. Zero calories. Some caffeine. Wearing teal in the 1990s.
Cons: It tastes like a diet soda. Kim Kardashian sex tape. Pissing off Helen Keller. My multiple-discounted pair of teal jeans. Diet Coke Plus needs its own phone. Seafoam. Sanjaya not winning American Idol.

REVIEW: Hot Chocolate Pop-Tarts

Marvo 28 Comments

In college, my nickname was “Hot Chocolate.”

Well at least I wanted my nickname to be “Hot Chocolate,” but it didn’t catch on with anyone, despite my numerous attempts, like whenever I had to introduce myself in Japanese language class I would say, “Boku no namae wa Marubin desu. Dozo yoroshiku. Nikkunemu wa Hatto Chokurato desu.”

Or whenever someone introduced me at a party or I had to introduce myself in an English-speaking class, I would always say, “My name is Marvin, but all my friends call me “Hot Chocolate.”

That last part was a lie. Unfortunately, none of my friends called me “Hot Chocolate.”

I thought it would make a great nickname for me since I enjoy hot chocolate, listen regularly to the song “You Sexy Thing” by the British group Hot Chocolate, and have a habit of melting candy bars in my pants pockets.

It would’ve been a cool nickname if it caught on, but it didn’t, much like a bunch of fashion trends I tried to start in college, like bowties, bringing back the mullet hairstyle, and wearing jeans low to show off my ass crack whenever I sat down or squatted.

To this day, I’m not sure why I wasn’t able to get anyone to call me “Hot Chocolate.” Perhaps people didn’t know about my love of hot chocolate or perhaps it was that every time I said “Hot Chocolate,” I would say it in a high-pitched voice and then wrap my arms around myself in a B-boy pose.

I may not be able to get others to call me “Hot Chocolate,” but for some reason these new Hot Chocolate Pop-Tarts have no problem being called “Hot Chocolate,” despite not even tasting like hot chocolate and marshmallows like the picture on the box suggests.

Sure it’s got the words “hot chocolate” printed on its box, but when I put “Hot Chocolate” on one of those “Hello My Name Is” name tags, that didn’t even convince anyone to call me by my desired nickname. I thought about getting “Hot Chocolate” tattooed on one of my ass cheeks, but quickly realized the words on my ass would have a totally different meaning whenever I had to take a crap.

Despite not tasting like hot chocolate, the Hot Chocolate Pop-Tarts weren’t bad. They were chocolatey, but not hot chocolatey, and they weren’t as good as some of the other chocolatey Pop-Tarts I’ve reviewed. Speaking of other chocolatey flavors of Pop-Tarts, this one didn’t come with a recommendation to freeze them, but I did try them frozen and they were all right. Just like an Owen Wilson cameo in a Luke Wilson movie, or visa versa, freezing it didn’t make a difference at all.

Each Hot Chocolate Pop-Tart has 200 calories, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, zero grams of trans fat, 200 milligrams of sodium, 34 grams of carbs, less than one gram of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, two grams of protein, 50 milligrams of mediocrity, and a variety of vitamins and minerals.

Now that I think about it, I’m actually glad that “Hot Chocolate” didn’t stick as my nickname, because I now have a new nickname that I’d like to be called. I think I’m going to try to get people to call me “The Pocket Rocket,” because of my love of cargo pants and my fascination with NASA.

Item: Hot Chocolate Pop-Tarts
Price: $3.39
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Sweet. Chocolatey. Vitamins and minerals. Hot chocolate the drink. The song “You Sexy Thing” by Hot Chocolate. Didn’t get that Hot Chocolate tattoo on my ass.
Cons: No one wanted to call me “Hot Chocolate.” Doesn’t really taste like hot chocolate. Freezing it doesn’t do anything for it. Melted candy bars in my pocket. My excessive use of quotation marks in this review. None of the fashion trends I tried to start in college caught on, especially showing off my ass crack.

Tylenol GoTabs

Marvo 21 Comments

Do you suffer from headaches caused by your child’s desire to watch the same frickin’ Barney DVD EVERY SINGLE DAY and because of it the only thing you hear in your head during the quiet moments of your day is an internal verbal tapping of your forehead consisting of Barney singing the lyrics, “I love you. You love me. We’re a happy family. With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you. Won’t you say you love me too” in a seemingly never-ending loop which feels like those lyrics are being tattooed on the frontal lobe of your brain?

Or do you have menstrual cramps that are compounded by your boyfriend/husband/life partner’s inability to understand the pain and wave of emotions you’re feeling, their inconsiderate desire for a BJ to release their sexual tension since you’re not riding his boystick, and their total inability to realize that the chocolate they are too lazy to buy for you will help you cope with the pain?

You could let nature take its course and wait for the throbbing pain to subside, but just like all Mel Gibson-directed movies, natural healing can take a lot longer than we really want. Thank goodness for drugs, which can relieve pain quicker than liquor and in either pill, injectable, or enema form.

If you suffer from any of the aches and pains listed above, perhaps Tylenol GoTabs could be your tiny savior in chewable tablet form. Each of the Tylenol GoTabs has 500 milligrams of acetaminophen magic to temporarily dull the unpleasant sensations you have so that you don’t have to worry about the pain anymore and can concentrate on important things, like setting up an eBay listing for that frickin’ Barney DVD and sell it to some poor unknowing sucker who will experience the pain you went through.

Since they’re kind of inexpensive, you’ll think about adding a box of Tylenol GoTabs with the eBay listing to help with the pain the winning bidder will experience after a week of listening to a stupid purple dinosaur sing songs about manners and family, but you’ll give it a second thought and decide that the pain experienced will make the bidder a better parent and help them realize that perhaps the minivan with the DVD player in the ceiling isn’t the best idea.

Personally, Tylenol GoTabs helped me recently when I found myself as a passenger in a car driven by a fanatical tone deaf American Idol fan who likes to sing at the top of her lungs and has an iPod full of nothing but songs by anyone who’s appeared on the show, including William Hung. If you ever find yourself in that situation, two Tylenol GoTabs will help with the headache caused by their horrible singing and the pain you’ll experience when you jump out of their moving car to escape their horrible singing.

The two Tylenol GoTabs helped relieve my headache pain within twenty minutes, but not the nightmares of Carrie Underwood I’ve had since. Since they’re chewable I didn’t need to drink water with them, but I wish I did because they’re very chalky, like an equally-sized Tums antacid. Its minty flavor was much better than the bitterness of regular aspirins, but definitely wasn’t good enough to freshen breath.

So the next time you’re in the middle of nowhere and have muscular aches that are the result you trying to prove numerous consecutive times that you can do that Kid ‘n Play dance move that involves jumping over your leg with your other leg, but instead you end up tripping over yourself and falling on the hard floor time and time again, making Kid’s hi-top fade hairstyle drop and sag in disappointment, a couple of Tylenol GoTabs will help ease the pain, but not the shame.

Item: Tylenol GoTabs
Price: $2.00 (on sale)
Purchased at: Longs Drugs
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Chewable. Minty. 500 milligrams of pain relieving goodness in each tablet. Portable. Kind of inexpensive. Relieves pain within 20 minutes. Getting rid of Barney DVDs on eBay. The sadistic joy you’ll receive from knowing someone is suffering from the Barney DVD you just sold them on eBay.
Cons: Barney. Only six tablets per pack. Barney. Chalky. Barney. Still need water to consume to get rid of chalkiness. Barney. Unable to relieve shame. Barney. An iPod full of nothing but songs by American Idol contestants and hopefuls. Barney. Menstrual cramps. Barney.

Rehab Energy Drink

Marvo 22 Comments

Some people go to rehab for illegal drugs. Some people go to rehab for alcohol addiction. Some people go to rehab for things they’ve done to animals sexually. Finally, some go to rehab for their extreme Sesame Street addiction.

I have an addiction…Um, I mean a friend of mine has an addiction to Sesame Street which some people might say is “unhealthy” and “perverse,” and I have…I mean he has gotten a lot help for it. His addiction began innocently as a young child watching Sesame Street daily on PBS. Little did he know that his love of learning numbers, letters, and basic Spanish words and phrases would turn into a love stronger than anything he’s ever imagined.

A love so wrong, yet so right.

Perhaps his love of learning and the pressure of getting good grades were the catalysts for his Sesame Street obsession. They say repetition is one of the ways to learn something and I spent…Um, I mean my friend spent hours watching repeats of the Emmy-award winning show. In no time, he became proficient at counting up to ten, learning all 26 letters of the alphabet, and used the Spanish phrase muy bien regularly in his conversations with others.

However, that wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t want to just watch Sesame Street, he wanted to sweep the clouds away on his way to where the air is sweet. He wanted someone to tell him how to get, how to get to Sesame Street, but no one could tell him how. Instead, thanks to extensive merchandising, he surrounded himself with everything Sesame Street.

Even at the age of 31, his apartment is a shrine to the world’s greatest educational children’s television series EVER. With all of the Sesame Street merchandise he’s collected over the years, some call his apartment an “eBay goldmine,” while others call it “a total chick repellant.”

During his free time as an adult, he spent it doing something Sesame Street-related. For example, because they don’t make adult-sized male Sesame Street pajamas, he took Sesame Street bed sheets and used it as fabric to sew his own pajamas. He also created his own Sesame Street episodes, using puppets he bought in 1990s, that taught the characters important lessons, like the need for Oscar the Grouch to wear deodorant, teaching Snuffleupagus how to hide his marijuana stash from drug sniffing dogs, and tutoring Ernie on the importance of safe sex.

Eventually, it got to the point when my…I mean his Sesame Street addiction took an unusual turn. Whenever cookies were around, he would loudly say Cookie Monster’s catch phrase, “Me want cookie!” and then sing the C Is For Cookie song. He also began inappropriately using his vibrating Tickle-Me-Elmo for entertaining purposes, but not the entertaining purposes it was intended for.

His gradual psychological deterioration caused by his Sesame Street obsession can be seen in the forms of artwork he’s done over the years, which began as a fingerpainting of Big Bird in kindergarden, then doodles of Bert and Ernie in the margins of his high school physics notes, and recently, his anatomically-correct oil painting of Grover.

Before the intervention, his family and friends tricked him into going to by saying they were taking him to see the ice skating production of Sesame Street on Ice, he personally tried to seek help for his Sesame Street addiction by drinking several cans of Rehab Energy Drink. Its berry flavor was good, the light carbonation made it easy to drink, the 120 milligrams of caffeine and the B Vitamins gave a good boost of energy, and it had polyphenol and catechin antioxidants, which is rare for an energy drink, but all of that didn’t help with his addiction.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t work for him, after all it didn’t work with Lindsay Lohan and her whorish ways. Perhaps she should seek professional help, like I did…I mean my friend did. Today, he’s slowly overcoming his Sesame Street addiction and has been spending more time with the slightly less addictive and slightly less time consuming World of Warcraft.

Item: Rehab Energy Drink
Price: $2.29 (12 ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Good berry flavor. 120 milligrams of sweet caffeine. Lots of B Vitamins. Easy to drink. Lots of polyphenol and catechin antioxidants. The educational qualities of Sesame Street. Using a Tickle-Me-Elmo to entertain.
Cons: Pricey for a 12-ounce can. My addiction…I mean my friend’s addiction to Sesame Street. Lindsay Lohan drinks it. Repelling women with a Sesame Street shrine. Using a Tickle-Me-Elmo to entertain.