The Hot Mess Burger - A Culinary Review

Today we'll be showing off our diversity by becoming a food critic.  Our first item up for review is Jack in the Box's Hot Mess Burger, as seen below in all its splendor...

...or not.

Reality sucks.

For those of you unfamiliar with this food item, it's a new burger from that antenna topper/restauranteur Jack, who is known for being "in the box."  The target market for this item is clearly anyone with a discerning palate and a love for more cerebral pursuits, as evidenced by the commercial's main appeal being "it almost has boobs in it."

You'll see this face in your nightmares.

First of all, let's be honest with ourselves.  This is a fast food burger, not steak and lobster.  No point going all food-snob on you and talking about its "flavor profiles" and similar crap.  Instead, I'm going to rate this burger on how well it lives up to its name.  Each attribute will receive a rating of 1 - 5, with 5 being "perfect" and 1 being "bugger this nonsense, I'll just eat some tree bark instead."

1. Hot

Holy Jesus Christ was this thing hot.  Hot as in temperature, that is.  I almost died.  I mean, it seems somewhat stupid to complain about food being too hot (would you rather have it cold?  No.), but there's "hot" hot and there's "Satan's nasal cavities" hot.  After one bite I could feel my face melting off.

I took this picture of myself with my iPhone!

Additionally, one might very logically assume that when a burger comes with jalapeños and pepper jack cheese the word "hot" is to be taken as "spicy."
Spicy this burger is not.  The jalapeños were uncomfortably mild, not to mention light on flavor.  I think they might have been made of wood.  Chewy wood though... at least there's that.  The pepper jack cheese tasted fine but was far from spicy.

Rating: 3/5

As the blisters that now cover the inside of my mouth can attest, this sandwich was hot as all goddamned arseraping hell.  However, I'm deducting two points for the deception as to which version of "hot" I was getting.

2. Mess

They knocked it out of the park on this one.  Onion rings are sloppy as is because the onion always pulls out of the breading, hanging out of one's mouth like the tail of some smelly little rodent, and the cheese was absolutely everywhere.  I'm fairly certain it started out semisolid but once entered into the inferno created by (presumably) the meat, it flowed all over the place.  Also I think there might have been mayonnaise in there.
You know there's a major level of trust between customer and restaurant when they hand you a burger with white mystery glop all over and you eat it without questioning anything.  They could have put anything in there.  Be very polite to the employees when ordering one of these.

Rating: 5/5

You want a mess?  You got it.

Seriously, just look at it.

3. Burger

Rating: 5/5

It is in fact a burger. 

Overall

Rating: 4.33

Brutal honesty on the part of Jack in the Box.  This is a hot, messy burger.  Still wish it was spicier.  Whatever. 

Hand Lotion Just Got Manly!

Winter.  The time of year where Nature flips you the bird and dries your skin into a horrible, dessicated mess until you're forced to do that sad, unmanly thing that we all dread: applying hand lotion.  Your skin's so miserably cracked and dried that as soon as you smear some on, you realize it's not just your hands; it's all of you.  So what started with a little on your hands turns into your forearms, elbows, and so on until you're standing naked in the bathroom covered head to toe in greasy, smelly, girly hand lotion unable to move or touch anything for fear of getting slime all over it.  You're a slug.
But that's not the worst part.  The worst part is reaching for that bottle and thinking to yourself, "GAY."
I bet Rambo never used hand lotion.
When the Vikings rampaged across Scandinavia, pillaging and burning everything in their wake, did they stop to smear on a little hand lotion?
NO.
Why not?  Because it's girly.  Or at least it WAS.  Until now.

Introducing Mr. Beefy's Skin Sealant!
This manly bottle of brute force will help to:

• Maintain skin's tensile strength!
• Reduce unwanted loss of blood-fluid!
• Prevent inhibition of muscle growth due to epidermic inflexibility!
• Prevent breakdown of outer organic body covering!
• Maintain positive tactile receptivity from domestic partner(s)!

You'll find it in a hardware store or gun shop near you, but I'll tell you where you won't find it: in the goddamn feminine bathroom soap products aisle, that's where.


So there it is.  Someone make this happen.  But remember: it was MY idea.  You owe me at least half the profits.  I have witnesses.

Horgh For President!

This Tuesday, November 6th, we will go to the polls to vote for the President of this fine country.
We will select a leader to carry us through the next four years; to bring prosperity to a struggling economy.
We will elect a man that can shoulder the burden of making this nation great once again.
The man for this job is none other than Reidar Horghagen.

Horgh has fought the venomous plague of Christianity for years, and once elected will ensure that only the Dark Lords are served by our country's denizens.


Horgh will fight for truth, justice, and really cool armbands.

Once this great pillar of achievement known as HORGH is elected into the office of President of the United States, he will begin the extermination process to rid our country of the pathetic human filth that has dragged it into the economic gutters.

Truth.  Justice.  Prosperity.  Blast beats.  Progress.  Corpse paint.  Horgh believes in these things, and WE BELIEVE IN HORGH!

Damn right I'm reusing this.

A vote for Horgh is a vote for a better America.  Barack Obama may be our first black president, but it's time to vote in our first BLACK METAL president!  Vote Horgh in 2012!

This ad paid for by Citizens for Brutality in Government.

Vince Wilfork Eats Ray Rice

Following Sunday's 31-30 loss to the Baltimore Ravens, New England Patriots defensive lineman Vince Wilfork was seen on the sidelines eating Ravens running back Ray Rice.
 Wilfork--known as a solid defender, excellent run stopper, and the fattest goddamned person ever to be seen on a football field ever in the history of everything--reportedly devoured Rice in only two bites, only pausing briefly to spit out his helmet.
When asked to explain his actions, Vince casually replied, "When you see somethin' that says 'Cheetos' on it, you don't stop to check if it's really got Cheetos in it.  You just eat it.  Sometimes the bag, too.  So I see somethin' that says 'Rice' on it and I'm like, 'Yeah, I could go for some rice right now.'  Turns out it was a guy instead.  [shrugs]  Hey, nobody's perfect."
Wilfork's girth has caused him issues before, often making him the butt (pun absolutely intended) of numerous jokes.

It's almost too easy.

He has been reprimanded in the past for similar incidents, having hastily devoured such contraband as 46 NFL regulation size footballs, 11 tackling dummies, former teammate Ty Law, and Bill Belichick's 1995 Chevrolet Cavalier.  It is unknown whether Vince will be disciplined for this recent conspicuous consumption.

Wilfork daydreaming about Pop Tarts and chocolate cake

In response to a reporter's question about whether Wilfork regretted the Ray Rice incident, Vince shrugged and replied, "Nah, I mean, he was ok I guess.  A little bland, though.  I mean, there was some [Patriots linebacker Jerod] Mayo there and all but what I really could've gone for was some soy sauce.  Yeeeeaaaah."
Wilfork then licked his lips, stomach rumbling as reporters fled in terror.

"Papyrus" Font is Hereby Banned

I just wanted to let everyone know that if I catch anyone using...

...for your business logo, band logo, printing on the back of your book, movie subtitles (looking at you, James Cameron), heading for your website, or pretty much ANYTHING AT ALL I will probably stick spoons in your eyes. 
This has become the most ridiculously overused font in the world of late.  The most recent and infuriating example I've noticed is that Edible Arrangements uses it in their logo. EDIBLE FREAKING ARRANGEMENTS, a business whose continued existence completely defies all logic and common sense.  That association in itself should be enough to shame you into not using it.

Please.

I'm begging you.

Stop.

Rhythmic Gymnastics: My New Favorite Sport

As those of you not living in refrigerator boxes in dark alleys are probably aware, the Summer Olympics have been going on of late.  We've all seen the standard Olympic events (various track events, swimming, boat races, cattle mutilation, etc.) but the best part about the all-day Olympic TV coverage is you get to discover new sports.

Today, I'd like to talk about rhythmic gymnastics. 

"What are rhythmic gymnastics?" you ask, because you like asking stupid questions, the answers to which you were obviously going to get if you could have just waited a second or two.

Rhythmic gymnastics aren't gymnastics in the traditional sense, with all the vaulting and backflipping and whatever the hell it is those crazy Chinese dudes are doing.  The participant dances around with a ball, hula hoop, or ribbon.  They throw the aforementioned item around a bit.  They dance some more.  Maybe a somersault or two.
 
Yep.  That's it.  This sport must have been created as a failed attempt to get strippers into the Olympics.  Imagine the awkward childhood moments:
"What do you want to be when you grow up, Timmy?" asks the teacher.
"A fireman!"
"That sounds great!  And you, Sarah?"
"I'm gonna be a veterinarian!"
"Wonderful!  What about you, Olga?"
"I'm gonna dance around a lot and throw a ball in the air and catch it with my thighs."
"Yes... that sounds fun... we all like to play.  But what are you going to do for your career?"
"No, seriously!  Dancing!  With a ball!  Throw it!  Catch it!  Repeat!  I'm a princess!"
"Oh.  Well.  Um... your mother will be proud, I'm sure.  Hopefully there's a McDonald's hiring nearby."

"But wait!" you say.  "This doesn't sound like something you'd enjoy!  The page said it's your new favorite sport!  What's so great about it?"

Well, you see...

The umm... competitive nature of the sport is very...

You can easily appreciate the... rigorous.. ah... technicality of...

That is to say... anyone can enjoy the event's... philosophical...

OH MY GOD THAT'S HOT.  BEST OLYMPIC EVENT EVER!

How Did You Know I Needed Women's Pants?

Usually my spam emails aren't that great.  They try to sell me Viagra--which I don't need (yet)--or convince me to give Prince Mbongwe from Nigeria my bank account information so he can wire me ten million dollars.  They tell me that their name is Kristy and they are naked and want to meet up with me soon.  Sometimes their name is Frank, but they are invariably naked and want to meet up with me soon and are desperately in need of my credit card number.
But not today.
Today, they received my Lorna Jane Style Request (apparently).  I was pleased to find out that I (apparently) am interested in buying some women's pants from their store in Australia.
The email was as follows:

Hi [my name!  how did they know my name?],

Thank you for shopping on lornajane.com.au

Your style request has been received and one of our Lorna Jane Angels will be in touch shortly to help you locate your desired style.

"Beyonce 7/8 Tight (m)"

For faster service or for any additional assistance with your style request please call 1300 LORNA JANE (1300 567 625) to speak to a Lorna Jane Angel now*.

We look forward to helping you Live Active!

Thank you,
The Lorna Jane Team


* The Lorna Jane Angels are available to assist you over the phone during customer service business hours Monday-Friday 9AM-5PM AEST.

I wondered if the Lorna Jane Angels were the ones who were always naked and emailing me or whatever, but I figured what the heck, I'll check out the website.
Oh man.  These are some nice pants.  Only 65 Australian dollars?  I must have them.

 

This is my bum, I guess.

Well, magic Internet spam email machine, for once you got it right.  Yes.  I do in fact want some Beyonce 7/8 Tight (m) ladies' pants... or leggings... or whatever the heck they are.  In fact, I bought some already, and decided to post a picture.  Thanks, Lorna Jane Angels, for helping me Live Active!

I bet Frank really wants my credit card number now.