REVIEW: Glaceau XXX Vitamin Water

Marvo 30 Comments

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 Glaceau, 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.

Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters

Marvo 22 Comments

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.

IKEA Plastic Bag

Marvo 13 Comments

Oh, IKEA!

Please do not smite me for not buying any of your Swedish-designed furnishings during my last visit by dropping one of your yellow and blue football field-sized stores on top of me!

I’m sorry that I didn’t purchase any of your cheap furnishings with names that sound like they were created using random Scrabble letters puked out by a five-year-old who didn’t know better. But believe me I wanted to walk out with enough furniture to put my modest two-bedroom apartment through an extreme makeover, but it would be difficult to ship all of it from California to this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, unless you IKEA, made a cheap boat that could be put together with single sheet of simple instructions.

To appease you IKEA, I did not leave totally empty-handed. I purchased one of your IKEA plastic shopping bag for five cents at the checkout counter. Sure, other stores don’t charge me for plastic bags, but I was more than happy to buy one from you so that I don’t get a VIREN or a LILLHOLMEN reamed up any of my orifices by you.

Actually, my friend purchased it and I have yet to pay her back for it. To make up my debt to her, I plan to stand at the corner and flash a little skin at those who pass by and hopefully someone will throw a nickel my way to make me cover myself up. I actually wanted your big blue 59-cent reusable IKEA bag, but I would have to go down on too many people to make that kind of money.

Although, I can reuse your five-cent IKEA shopping bag if I wanted to. I can use it as a trash bag, water bucket, interrogation tool, for a kindergarden sack race, the worst deep sea diver’s helmet EVER, or storage for all the other plastic shopping bags I have. I can also use it for making cheesy rain sound effects in the background whenever I sing the Guns N’ Roses song “November Rain” at karaoke or for making really good plastic shopping bag crumpling sound effects whenever someone is bagging my groceries at the grocery store.

While the bag’s transparency makes it hard to hide from others unwrapped gifts, chopped up body parts, or a collection of Lance Bass clippings from Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazines, its size is significantly larger than the plastic shopping bags from most grocery stores.

These two attributes make your IKEA Plastic Bag the ideal bag for carrying a baby or toddler…if the bag didn’t say “Esta bolsa no es un juguete, puedo causar sofocacion, mantenga bolsa plastica fuera del alcance de los ninos o bebes.” The transparency of the bag would’ve made it easy to see what a kid is up to, while its size would’ve been able to hold not only a child, but also a few toys, some snacks, and a snorkel to help them breathe.

Well IKEA, hopefully the purchase of your five-cent plastic bag won’t cause you to punish me for not purchasing any of your inexpensive furniture, because I don’t think I could handle the punishment of eating a billion of your delicious Swedish meatballs in a row.

(Editor’s Note: IKEA in the US is now charging five cents per plastic bag to discourage shoppers from using them, which in turn will slightly help reduce the waste caused by plastic bags every year. You can read more about it here.)

Item: IKEA Plastic Bag
Price: 5 cents
Purchased at: IKEA
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Big plastic bag. Big IKEA logo on both sides. Comes with built-in handles. Would make a good kiddie transport, if not for the warnings on the bag. Inexpensive Swedish-designed furnishings.
Cons: Most expensive plastic shopping bag ever. Being punished by IKEA for leaving a store empty-handed. Bad for the environment. Bag’s transparency makes it hard to hide your clippings of Lance Bass. Having clippings of Chris Kirkpatrick. The number of people I’d have to go down on to make 59 cents.

Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables

Marvo 14 Comments

When did making microwave popcorn become so complex, like with the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables?

For years, the instructions for microwave popcorn were simple, just like the steps for using the Ronco Showtime Rotisserie Grill or the video camera used to record your personal sex tape with your spouse, significant other, or some random person from the club, which you promise to erase later — just set it and forget it. When it’s done, just pop it out and enjoy it, or in the case of the sex tape, use it also for blackmail or possible internet stardom.

Today, there are microwave popcorn with added steps. With the Orville Redenbacher’s Shakeables, after the popcorn is done in the microwave, the instructions say that I have to stick it in a bowl, sprinkle on the powder from the separate Ranch flavor pouch, cover the bowl, and then shake the bowl to evenly mix the seasoning with the popcorn.

Ugh!

I don’t have time for these extra steps. If I wanted popcorn that involved that much pain, I would go to the closest movie theater, purchase a nine dollar ticket, buy a bag of five dollar popcorn, stick the popcorn in a muzzle, lock my arms and legs to the theater chair using chains and padlocks, and then force myself to watch Larry the Cable Guy in Delta Farce.

I’m not being lazy. Laziness is not wanting to go outside and mow the lawn or being stuck on a recliner, flipping channels, ending up on a Dora the Explorer marathon, accidently dropping the remote, unsuccessfully attempting to reach the remote without moving anything below your arms, then giving up and for the next six hours you help Dora with her quests, while occasionally reaching for the remote, hoping that your arm has grown slightly within the past 45 minutes.

It’s just that these added steps take away the convenience of microwave popcorn. We don’t need no stinkin’ bowl. That’s what the bag is for. The bag is the bowl. As for adding the seasoning and shaking a bowl, if I want to shake something I’ll make my way to a dance floor and shake my thang until the break of dawn. With regular butter microwave popcorn, I don’t have to add the butter, so why do I have to add the Ranch seasoning? If we have the technology to make microwave popcorn, the iPhone, and sex dolls that look real, I’m pretty sure we also have the technological know-how to add ranch flavor to the popcorn pre-popped.

Despite the extra work it takes to prepare the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables, it does taste good and has a strong ranch flavor, which reminds me of most ranch-flavored potato chips. Some people might think that the flavor is too powerful, so for those people I would recommend using less of the flavor pouch. The shaking of the seasoning in the bowl did create an even distribution of flavor, but I think that could also be accomplished using the popcorn bag instead.

Each serving contains 150 calories, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 17 grams of carbs, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of protein, and a very high 550 milligrams of sodium. Speaking of salty, just like the breasts of most pornstars, the Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables comes with only two salty bags per box.

So if you like microwave popcorn with a twist and are willing to do some dishwashing and low-impact shaking to get that twist, the Orville Redenbacher’s Shakeables might just be for you.

Item: Orville Redenbacher’s Real Ranch Shakeables
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Good flavor. Strong ranch flavor, similar to ranch-flavored potato chips. Zero trans fat. Made with real buttermilk. The ability to add as much or as little flavor as you want. Set it and forget it. Popcorn is a good source of fiber.
Cons: Only two salty bags. Having added steps to microwave popcorn. Delta Farce. Using a sex tape as blackmail. Being lazy enough to sit through a Dora the Explorer marathon. Shaking my thang on any dance floor.

REVIEW: Nissin Thai Peanut Chow Mein

Ace 16 Comments

Ever been so broke that your roommate kicked you out for secretly hoarding his/her Cheese-It crackers in a pillow case next to your bed? What about that patent for that invisible dog leash that you didn’t know was already invented? Are you tearing up right now and violently shaking your head in the mirror as you read this? Of course you are. We’ve all been there, but the key is to keep from descending into a life of bootlegging porn and slinging rocks to keep your head above water.

If you’re ever down on your luck but still too prideful to live off of plain old bagged ramens, Nissin is on your side. Indeed, searching through the neighbor’s newspaper to find 10 for $1 deals on your favorite flavors can be humiliating and soul-crushing. Opening the bag and having the bits of ramen spray everywhere around your filth-ridden hovel can be even worse.

Luckily, for just ten times the price, you can avoid all of this. That’s because Nissin’s Chow Mein brand comes in its own microwavable container that you just add water to and cook for a few minutes. If they did their marketing research correctly, all of this crazy technology will make you feel like a bigger person.

After you add water to the fill line and watch it bubble in the microwave, it comes out hot and ready to eat. This should be the part where you take a satisfying bite and show the world that you will indeed make it in life, but something’s very wrong.

Son of a bitch…it’s not chow mein at all! In fact, it’s just regular ramen — as I should’ve expected all along. I would at least expect them to make the noodles bigger or change the taste a little, but they are the same ramen noodles we’ve all come to love and loathe.

What else is the packaging lying to me about? I see on the upper left-hand corner that it claims to have “stir fried noodles with plenty of vegetables” but I can’t figure out why. Obviously, the noodles have never been touched by human hands, let alone a chef next to a wok. I’m pretty sure I didn’t stir fry it in the microwave. If I did, I should be taking Criss Angel’s spot on Mindfreak. About the claim “plenty of vegetables,” I can’t imagine that tick-sized bits of red and green mystery specks could be any way construed as such things. How many lies must a man endure?

Luckily for Nissin, I am a very easy person to please. Apologies tend to warm my heart, even when they are half-assed and meaningless. I have had a whirlwind of emotions with these noodles, but I was giddy with glee as I found a small packet of crushed peanuts inside the box. Oh, the fun those peanuts and I had. After I sprinkled them atop the mound of ramen noodles, I was happy once again.

The noodles themselves tasted pretty good. They were a bit gummier than I would like, but still perfectly edible. The sauce was sweet, sour, and spicy, just as the packaging said it would be. By itself it is a rather meager meal, but the addition of your favorite meat or a simple fried egg would make it a decent lunch. All in all, the purchase did not change my life, but it kept me from a life of crime and debauchery.

Item: Nissin Thai Peanut Chow Mein
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Sauce tastes pretty good. Very easy to cook and eat. Small packets of crushed peanuts.
Cons: Not actually chow mein. No vegetables. Misleading claims about food preparation. Stealing cheap food from roommates.