Review of Peas

This is going to be the most terrifying review I've ever written ever. It goes like this:


Once upon a time, there was a girl who went to some kind of community function for her former high school. It had refreshments and h'ors d'oeuvres that were supposed to be fancy, and then after the refreshments was a performance by a Beatles tribute band. They were called something related to the Beatles that I don't remember.

The girl and her parents and sister all went, and a waitress offered them a plate of mini chicken pot pies. This girl was not educated on anything food-related because she only liked foods that were the color beige. When she asked what was in the chicken pot pie, the waitress told her it had chicken and dough. Great, thought the girl, taking a large bite. What could be better than free food that was made out of dough?

As she took the first bite, her sister watched and elbowed their father in concern. The sister and father both had intense passions for food and cuisine knowledge, and so they knew about the other contents in the chicken pot pie. They watched as the girl looked at the other half of the pie that she still held in her hand, her eyes widening in horror. The chicken pot pie had more than just chicken. It had-- PEAS (and carrots)!

These peas are frozen. The ones in the pie were not frozen.

The girl looked at her family in panic. The unthinkable had happened... she had willingly consumed peas. Paralyzed with revulsion, she stared at the half of the pea that was still in the pie. She would rather have found half a worm. There were peas in her mouth. E gads!

Seeing the impending disaster and humiliation that the girl was about to bring upon the family, the sister acted fast. She grabbed the plate with the remaining pot pie out of the girl's hand, snatched her father's cocktail napkin from his hand, and thrust it in the girl's face, hissing, "Spit it out!"

And she did.

Yay!

The moral of this story: don't eat unidentified and/or suspicious foods. Also peas are the most disgusting food on the planet. I would rather eat a million units of flan than one pea (that's a big deal because I hate flan).

That was a falsehood, I would never eat flan. I feel nauseous just thinking about it.

Review of Cicadas

There is a phenomenon in the Midwest known as the 17-year cicadas. It’s possible that these exist in other places too, but I’m not looking it up. I’m not a librarian.

Unfortunately for me, the first summer of the cicadas that I experienced was when I was seventeen. Since the last summer of cicadas had occurred seventeen years earlier, which was before I was born. Finding out at 17 years old that you’re about to be accosted by a cicada swarm is not fun. It is the worst birthday surprise ever. I mean they weren’t actually there on my birthday, but still.

You know what a cicada summer is like? It is a living hell. They swarm around, and they buzz, and they land on you, and it’s the worst. I could put a picture in this post right about now, but HELL TO THE FUCKING NO. Why would I put a picture of a cicada on my blog. WHY.

I know, I will draw a picture with my excellent art skills. Observe:

This is a diagram of a cicada. He is feeling angry.

 
 You see why a being such as this would strike fear into the hearts of men. And me.

According to a Mister Charles Darwin, cicadas should not exist. That's not a direct quote, but I bet he would totally agree. Cicadas do not do anything other than wreak havoc for the 2-3 weeks that they are around every 17 years. They are actually the dumbest animals ever.

Imagine this scenario: you are a cicada, and you are flying around because why the hell not? You're going to die in two weeks anyway. But instead of choosing to fly in circles inside the forest preserve from whence you emerged, you come up with a brilliant idea-- you're going to fly across a large, busy street! Who cares that you can't move very fast and are incapable of traveling in a straight line? Dodging traffic is the best game ever! It's like Frogger, but a million times more horrible!

This lack of simple survival instincts is why cicadas should not exist. But for some odd reason, they do. And they drunkenly zigzag across the road, and if you hit them by mistake they splatter into green goop on your windshield. I promise, it's literally green. I almost had an accident the first time that happened.

Cicadas are the worst of the bugs. Thank goodness, by the time they're supposed to come out again, I'll be 34 and will be able to take myself on vacation until they're gone. You know who is not excited to be 34? Me, that's who. THE END

Skymall Review: Flair Hair Visor

You know what would be an excellent idea? Take a visor, put some bizarre fake hair on it, and give it to a bald person to wear!

Did I say excellent? I meant to say the absolute worst ever.

Say hello to the Flair Hair Visor!

Hello sir!

I really, really want to know who came up with this so that I can go glue one to their scalp. That way, they will have to spend the rest of their lives with their own horrific product attached to their body and making them look like the ugly abomination that they are. It's a very evil sentiment, but I think it is reasonable in this situation.

I also want to know what this person was thinking when this idea popped into their head. Maybe they were sitting on the curb outside of the U.S. Patent Office, their patent for the Litter-snack 3000 clutched in their sweaty palms (the Litter-snack 3000 is a litter box that doubles as a sandwich-maker), when a sad looking bald man walked by. And this person watched the sad looking bald man, and they thought-- what could I possibly do to cheer up that bald guy? And then BRILLIANCE struck! The person ripped up the patent for the Littersnack 3000, ran home and shaved their cat, glued the cat hair on top of a visor, and...... THE FLAIR HAIR WAS BORN!

The cat was probably a Maine Coon because they have very long hairs.

Exhibit A: That tail is not normal.

According to the description on Skymall's website, "It's a laugh a minute with this spiked hair hat!"

Let's think about that for a minute, Skymall. I believe the average laugh is approximately one 'ha'. Do you know how long it takes to say one 'ha'? I just timed myself, and it takes about half a second. In the time that your Flair Hair Visor produced one 'ha', this youtube video compilation of the Harlem Shake got 3,609,563 likes. That is OVER. 3. MILLION.

Let's break this down mathematically:

The youtube video is 27 minutes and 44 seconds long. 3,609,563 laughs over 27:44 minutes equals roughly 2,169 laughs per second. The Flair Hair Visor, at 1 laugh per minute, produces the equivalent of approximately 0.02 laughs per second. That is a HUGE difference. Even the average person has about 2 laughs per second, based on my own observations (a.k.a. I made it up)!

The Flair Hair Visor is clearly way out of its league here. It's like bragging about how fast your pet snail is to your friend that has a bio-engineered cheetah that can break the sound barrier. It's like... dude. What are you doing. You are embarrassing yourself.


But it turns out that you can still make money off of stupid things. Just take a look at the customer ratings and reviews.

On April 23, 2013, user jkhamerjo wrote: "This is a great conversation piece. I would highly recommend it."

There are exactly two possible conversations about this product: A) What the fuck is wrong with you, and B) Please stop talking to me, stranger with the bizarre hat. Jkhamerjo, what kind of conversations are you having?

On January 17, 2013, user Kathryn2013 wrote:  "My husband has had lots of fun with this product and he loves how real the hair on the hat looks. We will be purchasing more colors"

Uh. That's not what real hair looks like, Kathryn. Have fun with those colors.

On January 8, 2013, user MontanaMama wrote: "My husband is bald and loves this hat . He tells people that he has been taking a hair growth formula."

Really. Does he also tell them that he has been taking a HAT growth formula?


But we've saved the best for last. User canman (from Florida) gave the Hair Flair only ONE STAR. Why such a dismal review?
 

"Cons: wrong item

"I was sent the blonde flair hair by error. I sent it back. I reordered a gray hair flair.""

 

Mr. canman, that was the best story I've ever read in my entire life. And it ended on such a cliffhanger! What will happen to our hero's order? Will he receive the gray Hair Flair as promised? Will the visor perform to his standards? Will he be satisfied with his brand new Hair Flair Visor???? Tune in next week to find out!

But not really because I don't actually care.

Interview with Grandpa Enoch

The other night, I interviewed my Grandpa Enoch. I chose to interview him because he is very opinionated, just like me. Some of his opinions are serious, but several are quite hilarious. The following is a sample of some of the things we talked about. Disclaimer: I also discovered through this process that I am a terrible interviewer.

Me: Do you think that you are an opinionated person?
Grandpa: Very much so.
[silence]
Me: Okay… you want to talk more about that?
Grandpa: Oh! Yes, I'm opinionated. It's not one of my better attributes.
Me: Why not?
Grandpa: Well, maybe I shouldn't have an opinion of everything.
Me: Like what?
Grandpa: Like everything! Somebody says something, and I have an opinion about it. Somebody'll say, "You know, I love scrambled eggs." Well don't you think you would like fried eggs better than scrambled eggs? Is it important that I have to express myself?
Me: I feel like that's different though, because that's an opinion on someone else's opinion.
Grandpa: Okay.
[more silence and me giggling]
Me: If you could choose three opinions that you feel strongest about and are the most important, what would they be?
Grandpa: I have an opinion which is very minor. I'll go into a store, like a market. I open the door, and there's somebody in back of me. And I hold the door open for that person, and then they walk in ahead of me and take the number before me. And I always think, all I was doing was opening the door. I wasn't saying you could go ahead of me. And I think they're oblivious, like "Oh, I'm ahead, so I can take a number." I try not to do that.
Me: But what if, instead of holding the door open, you just push it open and look behind you so they can catch it? Then you're still in front.
Grandpa: I always try to hold the door open. And then we play al fonzi gaston [this is a miscellaneous French phrase that I could not understand], that means, "No, you go!" "No, you go!" It's a very small thing.

The following question came about because Grandpa Enoch is obsessed with changing the English language. He belives the word 'horizon' should be pronounced 'hoe-ri-zun' (emphasis on the last syllable) so that it sounds more like 'horizontal', and he also believes that great-aunts and uncles should be called grand-aunts and uncles. I made up a tagline for him that goes like this: Grandpa Enoch: Rewriting the English Language since 1930 (because he was born in 1930).

Me: If you could change one word in the English language, what would it be?
Grandpa: That's a very good question.
Me: I know you've got a list of these.
Grandpa: Hm... vomit.
Me: What would you change it to?
Grandpa: Expel.
Me: Like instead, everyone would just say 'expel'?
Grandpa: See, 'vomit' is like an onomatopoeia. It sounds like it is. And in Yiddish, the word for it is called 'brech'.
Me: That's also kind of an onomatopoeia.
Grandpa: It is. And it's a classic onomatopoeia. Yeah, maybe I would change it to 'expel'. Or 'discharge'.
Me: So you'd use euphemisms?
Grandpa: Yeah, yeah. But we do a lot of... of...
Me: Vomiting?
Grandpa: No, we do use a lot of euphemisms. We do a lot of cleaning up.
Me: That's probably a good thing.
Grandpa: Sometimes I think we may overdo it.
Me: Really?
Grandpa: Yeah. And I can't give you an example.
Me: Because you know I'm going to ask.
Grandpa: Yes. Well, I can't think of anything.
Me: That's okay.

The following exchange occurred repeatedly over the course of the interview:

Me: These questions don't make any sense. I'm a the worst at interviewing.
Grandpa: You're a great interviewer!
Me: +100 Self-Esteem Points!!

Eventually we forgot about the interview and the conversation degenerated into him telling me about growing up in Chicago and old cars and this crazy road trip he took with his family as a kid for three weeks. True story.

Review: Stingrays

If you go to Sea World in Florida, they have another park called Discovery Cove. This is one of those places where you can swim with the dolphins and feed the sharks and whatever. It's fun because it's in Orlando, which is my favorite place on Earth. Like if aliens ever came to Earth, they should first go to Orlando. It is the pinnacle of the human species.

When you're at Discovery Cove, you can go on some kind of tour thing where they take you around and show you how to feed every single animal that they have. Mayhaps this is so that they don't have to pay people to feed the animals themselves. Instead, you pay them! Hurrah!

I'm getting so bored with this post THE POINT IS STINGRAYS. Anyone who wants to know more about Sea World can go look it up themselves. It's called Google, guys. Use it.

Hello sir.

Stingrays are like fish except flattened. It's as though someone took a steamroller to a regular fish and turned it into a stingray. An analogy: stingrays are kind of like the matzah version of a fish. The whole matzah thing is how apparently if bread doesn't have time to rise, it becomes dry and crusty and FLAT. Except crackers are usually not so bad and matzah is horrible and causes constipation.

Allow this diagram to demonstrate:

It just took me 3 days to figure out how to make that stupid diagram. Who knew computers were so complicated??



Really the whole point of this post is to say that stingrays hug you with their flaps, because they have these flaps instead of arms or fins or whatever, and if you go to Sea World and feed them, they will be all, "Thank you for feeding me this delicious food!" and they swarm up to you and rub their flaps on you and suck the foods out of your hands with the weird little vacuum-mouth that they have.

Observe.

FLAPS FLAPS FLAPS THE END.

Skymall Review: The Slanket

Whenever I'm sad or upset, I think about the Slanket to cheer myself up. And sometimes I laugh, and then people who are nearby look at me like I'm strange. Which is reasonable, because I am strange, but the Slanket would make anyone laugh out loud.

A Slanket is basically a Snuggie. You know how a company will make the same product as a competitor but name it something slightly similar? They call it 'off-brand', like off-brand Toms shoes, or off-brand North Face jackets.

A Snuggie/Slanket is also the same thing as a robe turned backwards and made of flannel instead of terrycloth. I hate flannel.

I'm trying to figure out what was going through the Slanket-creators' heads when they came up with the name. See, 'Snuggie' makes sense. It sounds like 'snuggle', which is what you're supposed to do with it. But 'Slanket'? That sounds like lizards and slimy, scaly, yucky things. Like snakes and ferrets. Not that I don't like reptiles (I actually LOVE reptiles), but they're not exactly soft and snuggly. Reptiles prefer to be untouched, I think.

You know you wanna touch this.

Slanket has to be the most unappealing word ever. But what if you have a Slanket designed for two people? You have to come up with an even more unappealing name.

Never fear! We have the Slanket Siamese!

Why.

Now with "double" the possibilities! We put the quotation marks so you know it's a pun!

It gets better-- the Slanket actually has its own website outside of Skymall. There is a whole section of testimonials called 'Slanketeering'. And on that page, there's a collection of pictures of people's "Slanket Adventures". Apparently a 'Slanket Adventure' is when you use your Slanket in a place that you would never even think to bring an actual blanket. Like an elliptical. Honest to god, there is a picture of a kid wearing a Slanket while using an elliptical. That cannot possibly be safe.

But it's okay, because you can bring your Slanket to the hospital after it nearly kills you.

Final thought: there is a book of Snuggie sex positions. It's called the Snuggie Sutra. I really, really hope it's a joke, because I can think of a MILLION other items that I would rather use during sex than a Snuggie. Flannel is NOT moisture-friendly. Disgusting.

Review: Traffic

I think everyone in the world can agree that traffic is the worst possible thing ever. It’s boring, you can’t use the time productively, and if you space out for even a second you run the risk of A) an accident, or B) being pulled over. It sucks, and it’s stupid.

When you live in Chicago and you drive from the northern suburbs to the Loop, you have to try and avoid rush hour. The phrase ‘rush hour’ is misleading because it implies that there is a single solitary hour during which there is a rush. In reality, there are several hours of “rush hour” at a time, and they often occur 4+ times a day.

Here is an example of a rush hour schedule on the highway:

7:00 AM – 11:30 AM = Rush hour 1

3:00 PM – 7:00 PM = Rush hour 2

Actually I take it back, there are only 2 rush hours per day.

BUT there can be traffic for other reasons! Sometimes there is construction, and sometimes there are accidents, and sometimes the roads are slippery. And also certain days, like Friday afternoons, can be a lot more frustrating than normal afternoons. On Friday afternoons, the lanes of the highways that go to the city are more clogged up than arteries. Specifically arteries that are clogged. Like with hamburgers and stuff. That’s a thing, I think. I’m not a cardiologist.

Actually once I did a project in 7^th grade on the circulatory system, and for my visual component I painted veins and arteries onto a naked mannequin. My dad got the mannequin for me off of eBay. He (the mannequin) got a lot of attention because I insisted that he only wear half a pair of shorts because how can you see the veins and arteries if he’s wearing shorts over them?! Duh! So he wore the back half of a pair of my dad’s old shorts glued onto his butt, and the whole front was naked. The whole thing was very exciting. I think I named the mannequin Bob, because Bob is the funniest name ever.

So yes arteries! Clogs. Cars. All of those. Traffic sucks.