Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice

Marvo 27 Comments

I really believe the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice is the marshmallow equivalent of a “fuck you.”

If only I had the addresses of all the people who have bullied, teased, or blueballed me over the years, I would be mailing these fuckers en masse. If you don’t love your child, giving this product to them is probably the softest way to let them know, right behind the words, “You were an accident…that happened in the back seat of a Ford Pinto…with some guy I met at a bar at closing…I think his name was Rick…or Roger…I only had you for the welfare.”

The idea of a strawberry-flavored marshmallow that is shaped like a pizza is something beyond a novelty. It is like a cruel joke that is so cruel, no one laughs at it. Yes, I did say that this marshmallow pizza is strawberry flavored. I will admit a marshmallow pizza that is pizza flavored sounds even worse, but at least it would make sense.

Strangely, I wasn’t drunk, high, or delirious with hunger when I bought it, but I wish I was drunk or high when I ate some of it, because it is something I would like to forget in either an alcoholic haze or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style.

I took three regrettable bites out of the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice and then wished for a flux capacitor to be delivered via FedEx to my door so that I can go back in time and stop myself from purchasing something that not even fat kids would eat.

Its strawberry flavor was like I was eating a shitty strawberry yogurt. Its texture was a little tough, which is weird since it is a frickin’ marshmallow. Finally, the marshmallow pizza itself looked like a Picasso abstract painting…done by a 6-year-old with fingerpaints and on acid.

Despite everything bad about the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice, there is some good. It is fat free, but unfortunately, the zero grams of fat don’t make up for the 1,000 grams of shame.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 package – 150 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 35 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbs, 0 grams of fiber, 26 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 4% calcium, 2% iron, and 1,000 grams of shame.)

Item: Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice
Price: $1.49
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: It didn’t make me puke. Fat free.
Cons: It’s a pizza that’s strawberry flavored. 1,000 grams of shame. The marshmallow equivalent of a fuck you. Shitty strawberry taste. No flux capacitor.

REVIEW: Snapple Antioxidant Water

Marvo 14 Comments

With each having their own color and special power, I was hoping these five flavors of Snapple Vitamin Antioxidant Water would combine to form a huge robot, like Voltron: Defender of the Universe or the >Mighty Morphin Power Ranger’s Megazord.

Despite dressing up like King Zarkon from the Planet Doom and throwing other plastic bottles into the trash, instead of recycling them, the Snapple Vitamin Antioxidant Water plastic bottles did nothing to stop my evil ways.

Although Captain Planet did appear and attacked me while saying, “I’ve found another use for these bottles and that’s to kick your ass with them.”

The Snapple Vitamin Antioxidant Water comes in seven flavors, but I was only able to try five of them: Grape Pomegranate, Agave Melon, Strawberry Acai, Orange Starfruit, and Tropical Mango. According to the labels, they all have the power to do something beyond quenching a thirst.

Grape seed extract in the Grape Pomegranate has the power to defy, electrolytes in the Agave Melon has the power to restore, 60 milligrams of caffeine in the Strawberry Acai has the power to awaken, while Vitamin C in the Orange Starfruit and Tropical Mango have the power to protect.

Oh, if only one of them had the power of telekinesis or the power to sober.

Every flavor I tried was good. My two favorite flavors were the unusual tasting Agave Melon and the Strawberry Acai. Overall, they seemed a little less watered down than Glaceau’s Vitamin Water, despite their sugar content being about the same at about 30 grams per bottle. Speaking about similarities with Vitamin Water, the Snapple Vitamin Antioxidant Water also has semi-witty writing on its label, they don’t contain high-fructose corn syrup, and of course, they can’t form into a gigantic robot to fight evil.

Item: Snapple Antioxidant Water
Price: 99 cents each (20-ounces)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: All the flavors I tried tasted good. Agave Melon and Strawberry Acai were my favorites. Vitamins A & E. Less watered down taste than Vitamin Water. Electrolytes. No high-fructose corn syrup. Strawberry Acai flavor has 60 milligrams of caffeine.
Cons: Vitamin Water copycat, even includes semi-witty copy on label. Can’t combine to form gigantic robot to fight evil. None has the ability to sober. Getting your ass kicked by Captain Planet.

REVIEW: Carl’s Jr. Cap’n Crunch Shake

Ace 24 Comments

In perhaps the most random pairing since Dennis Rodman and Jean-Claude Van Damme in the horrible action flick Double Team, Carl’s Jr. and Cap’n Crunch have come together to deliver an ice cream shake that can satisfy any dairy craving. But why Cap’n Crunch? Is he not one of the lamest of all cereal mascots? Is the Lucky Charms leprechaun strung out on acid? Has the Trix rabbit finally ended his agony by murdering all the children that have tormented him?

I would hope not, but it is a rather curious choice. Cap’n Crunch has been laying low for the past several years, presumably shamed by the negative media attention he has received. First, his cereal was accused of cutting the roofs of people’s mouths, then Chris Rock compares him to Michael Jackson. His last appearance was a cameo on Family Guy where we discover that he had put a hit out on Count Chocula for spreading the mouth laceration rumor.

Whatever the reason for his disappearance, the Cap’n is back in milkshake form. After I tasted the ultra-thick shake, I realized why Cap’n Crunch is surprisingly delicious, especially when it’s blended and you don’t have to eat it in fear. You get a shake that is mostly ice cream and topped with a good amount of whipped cream. This is essential for me because I like to do that sexy tongue thing with the whipped cream, making this a perfect date dessert.

However, you probably won’t be able to enjoy this as you’re commuting. The cereal bits can easily clog the straw and make consumption-on-the-go pretty much impossible. Ask for a spoon if you’re planning on enjoying it. Even without the cereal, it’s still too thick to suck down.

That’s what she said.

Another downside is that even though it doesn’t taste ridiculously sweet, this thing is packed with 79 grams of sugar. It also has 35 grams of fat, a fact that Jared from Subway is sure to be shoving in your face during his next commercial. It’s probably a good idea to split this one, seeing as it has enough fat and sugar to kill a small child. It would be a pleasant and painless death, but one that the Cap’n probably wouldn’t want to be held liable for.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 Shake – 740 calories, 35 grams of fat, 24 grams of saturated fat, 100 mg of cholesterol, 320mg sodium, 94 grams of carbs, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 79 grams of sugar, and 15 grams of protein)

Item: Carl’s Jr. Cap’n Crunch Shake
Price: FREE from the Carl’s Jr. PR peeps (retails for $3.09)
Purchased at: Carl’s Jr.
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Blended cereal and ice cream taste surprisingly good together. Won’t cut the roof of your mouth. Even with all the sugar, doesn’t taste too sweet. That sexy thing I do with whipped cream.
Cons: Cap’n Crunch is a pretty lame mascot. The movie Double Team. Jared from Subway’s condescending attitude. Nearly impossible to drink through the straw. Enough fat and sugar to kill small children.

Chest Waxing

Marvo 53 Comments

(Editor’s Note: The above video is a little over nine minutes long. Enjoy my pain.)

I am sure many of you women out there do not think we men can handle pain. You may think that all men are a bunch of pussies, who cannot handle paper cuts or pushing a baby out through an orifice that geometrically should not have a baby go through. Well I’m here on behalf of men everywhere to prove that men can handle pain. If I had the plumbing, tools, and feel good medications necessary to give birth, I totally would, but instead you’re going to have to settle for getting my chest hairs ripped out.

My hair ripping dominatrix for my morning appointment was Terry, who specializes in Brazilian waxes. Unfortunately, unlike most dominatrixes there weren’t any “safe words” I could use if the pain became a little too much to bear. I just had to suck it up, like all guys forced to watch the movie Atonement with their lady friends. Although, I did come with a few possible “safe words,” like “peanut butter,” “Stop! Hammer Time!,” and “Perez Hilton is an attention whore.”

The application of wax felt good. The warm sensation was like putting on a pair of boxers straight from the dryer or tenderly embracing someone covered in Icy Hot. Terry used two types of wax on my pudgy body: a strip wax, which was used for large areas, and a hard wax, used for smaller and sensitive areas (ie. nipple). Both may have felt good going on, but the strip wax was pretty much a bitch coming off.

The strip wax was more painful since it was responsible for pulling out the majority of my fur in large clumps. I really didn’t want to know what it is like being Velcro, but thanks to the strip wax I now know. The hard wax was not so bad. It felt like a band aid being ripped off of my body or pasties being ripped off of my nipples.

Some areas were really painful, while with other areas I felt nothing at all. Overall, I thought it was not so bad of an experience. Sure, if you watch the video, I yelp out in pain many times, but I also do that with, Vixen, my real dominatrix, and whenever I yelp out in pain, our “safe words” are not far behind, which are usually, “Peter Cottontail hopping down the bunny trail.” I did not expect it to be a painless procedure and if I did not get it done by a professional, it probably would have been extremely painful.

After the waxing, there was redness, which wasn’t painful, but stuck around for about four days. Despite the redness, it felt nice having a smooth chest and I rubbed my chest quite a bit. As a matter of fact, I rubbed it so much that if I had sandpaper for hands, I would no longer have nipples. The smooth feeling lasted a little bit longer than I expected. Stubble didn’t start to show until two weeks later and my chest hair feels softer than usual.

Would I do it again? Yes, I would and I’ll probably make another appointment to see if it is easier the second time around and to get closer to my metrosexual side. But now with a smooth chest, when women have sex with me, they can close their eyes (or put a bag over my head) and imagine I’m someone else, instead of a furry woodland creature.

(Editor’s Note: I would like to thank TIB friend Cian for setting my appointment for pain and I would also like to thank Terry from Heaven on Earth Spa for making my experience as memorable as possible.)

Item: Chest Waxing
Price: $40 (regular $55)
Purchased at: Heaven on Earth Spa
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Not as painful as I thought. Smooth chest for the ladies. Professional waxers. Lasted longer than shaving. Applying the wax felt good. Safe words. Putting on a pair of boxers straight from the dryer.
Cons: Redness for several days after. Not permanent. Strip wax. Being Velcro. Dominatrix prices. Getting waxed by a non-professional.

Pringles Extreme Screamin’ Dill Pickle

Ace 28 Comments

Pringles Extreme Screamin' Dill Pickle

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in an M.C. Escher painting, running through endless corridors of waterfalls and weird shit only to end up in the same place. This might be because I browse the shopping aisles after taking a tab of acid, but it’s more likely that I’m just running into the same lazy promotions. Oh boy, another company gone “extreme” to spice up my life. I’ve grown weary of writing “extreme” jokes every other review, so if this is their intention, they have turned me into a beaten man.

Luckily, there is more to this damnation of cardboard tube than a stupid name, and believe me, it is a very stupid name. “Screamin’ Dill Pickle” was actually slang for gonorrhea where I grew up. It brought back some bad memories when I saw this on the shelves. Pickle flavoring on Pringles scared the shit out of me. I absolutely hate it when I get pickle juice on my fries, so pickle flavoring on Pringles would probably be that much worse.

I should probably explain Pringles to the uninitiated. Pringles are for small children who enjoy the novelty of eating stackable chips and stoners who like making those Pringles lips as seen in the commercials. If potato chips were steak, then Pringles would be mechanically separated beef. That’s because Pringles are “potato crisps” that are made from a potato-based dough not unlike your favorite instant mashed potatoes. While this does wonders for their ability to be neatly stacked into tubes, it doesn’t keep Pringles from tasting like salty paper.

While I figured that I probably wouldn’t enjoy this, I was still willing to give it a shot. I figured that the pickle flavoring would be mild at best. I also enjoy partaking in a crispy pickle spear fresh from the jar every once in a while, so I figured that I was prepared for some mighty picklage. However, you readers should know by now that I judge about as well as Lance Ito.

This is either the best thing ever or a nauseating abomination depending on your level of sanity. I don’t know how they did it, but it actually tastes more pickley than a pickle. It pretty much tastes like a McDonalds pickle if you were to take a swig of the juice right after consumption and then had someone kick you right in the nuts.

An informal taste test among a few friends confirmed that it is indeed disgusting, even for pickle lovers. The smell of it is also unsettlingly pungent. Just opening the tube around people leads to many audible complaints, escalating into violent threats after an extended period of time. If you ever sense the pleasurable aroma of pickles at your house, don’t be alarmed. It’s just me opening my Pringles and wondering if these extreme companies will ever let me go shopping sober again.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 ounce – 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 110mg sodium, 14 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 0% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 0% Iron)

Item: Pringles Extreme Screamin’ Dill Pickle
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Very, very, very pickley if you’re into that sort of thing. Tube is sturdy and plastic cap fits well. May be able to fit some small tennis balls in there.
Cons: Just one chip tastes like ten concentrated pickle slices. The smell is ridiculously strong and literally nauseating. People who make Pringles lips. Pringles kind of suck compared to real potato chips. Companies that are too lazy to name their products anything other than Extreme.