| Wendy's Advertising |
[Feb. 27th, 2007|05:12 pm] |
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I find it disturbing that Wendy's has chosen to sell their new fish sandwich to the tune of 'blister in the sun'. Doesn't make me want Wendy's at all, much less a fish sandwich (which, in all honesty, I would never buy anyway, even if they had the very best commercial in the world selling it). I guess I don't want food sold to me while the music is about some other kind of 'special sauce'... |
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| A party game |
[Sep. 6th, 2006|02:50 pm] |
From the Talk Like A Pirate Day website (September 19th, me hearties!) comes this fun and exciting party game:
Snapdragons
... I have discovered the perfect pirate game; I'd heard about it over the summer solstice, and am heartily ashamed I didna think t'send it to ye earlier. It is the ultimate game ever, combining the best non-sexual game elements there are: eating tasty things, drinking booze, lightning fast reflexes, and FIRE!
Snapdragons is played by only the heartiest and craziest of brave crewmen (and wenches). The required materials be a bottle of rum (or acceptibly high-proof booze), and good solid fistful of raisins or other dried fruit, and some sort of heavy-constructed shallow container, such as a pyrex pie plate, an iron skillet (important point: skillets must not have been recently used; any oil in them will ruin the game) or even a hubcap if it's on a sturdy outdoor surface.
Best played outdoors in low light conditions. Better still if people have already had a few to stiffen their reserve.
One takes the container and puts a good single layer of the fruit into it, just covering it with the booze. Let soak a bit, till the fruit gets a bit plump.
Then light it! Observe the lovely blue flames. Now, reach in and grab a raisin and eat it while it's still burning! Players take turns until the fire goes out. Any leftover fruit can be eaten warm. ;)
The goal of the game (apparently) is to trick your friends into burning off their facial hair. Even skilled players will singe off the hair on their fingers, but it's well worth it. Enjoy!
-- Iron John Kidd AKA Jon Kerr |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|10:13 am] |
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I know I started out by saying I tasted nine sodas, but the review mentions only five. Space limitations. I will post the review of the rest later. |
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| Turkey Soda |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|10:10 am] |
| [ | music |
| | The Echoing Green - New Gold Dream (81,82,83,84) (ChristianIndustrial.net: Pure. Industrial. Goodnes | ] |
I have been, like Audie Murphy, 'to hell and back'. Yes, I have had the opportunity to sample every single one of the Jones Holiday Sodas. That's right, all nine of them. And I took that opportunity, along with a group of coworkers who were also foolish enough to try. Myself and another guy had talked about getting the pack last year, but they sold out so quickly that all we could do was swear an oath that we would try them this year, even if it meant camping out at Target or something.
By the time that Halloween passed, and having survived the Halloween sodas (well, we just tried the candy corn and the caramel apple - the caramel apple I would drink again, if by some chance I found myself with the overwhelming urge for caramel apple soda, while the candy corn did indeed manage to taste like candy corn would if it were juiced and carbonated, and that, gentle reader, is something quite foul, to put it mildly) we were ready to tackle a little turkey soda. There was a little debate as to what temperature the drinks should be served at. Cold was quickly ruled out, and warm was considered but who wants warm soda? So in the end we went with good old room temp. We lined up many paper cups on the breakroom table, and, bottle by bottle, we apportioned it out into 1 -2 ounce rations and began swilling...
Turkey Soda: Medium brown in color, quite opaque, it looked about like what you'd expect if you liquified turkey and gravy in a blender and added an Alka-Seltzer. It didn't smell as bad as it sounded, though. We apprehensively tasted it...Surprise! It was disappointingly not like drinking gravy! Not that carbonated gravy has ever been really high on my list of things to drink, but still, after all the hype, I wanted more, um, turkeyness. It was definitely salty and surprisingly sort of sweet. There was a hint of turkey flavor, but all parties agreed that this was not nearly as bad as we'd thought it might be. On to Wild Herb Stuffing!
Stuffing Soda: Milky White and bubbly. One sniff did indeed convey the scent of some sort of herbs - rosemary. maybe? Definitely not a scent that one wants to associate with soda pop. Still, buoyed by the not-so-badness of the previous beverage, we imbibed. My tastebuds allowed me to swirl this around in my mouth for a moment before abruptly ordering an end to this foolishness. I thought about spitting but instead swallowed, and gulped the rest. During our brief time together I did pick out rosemary and sage, and there were a few other flavors that, while precisely unidentifiable, led me to believe that this concotion had been made with poultry seasoning. Not something I'm really looking forward to when selecting a refreshing beverage.
Brussels Sprouts: With Prosciutto, the label claimed. It was a nasty shade of green, conveying the menace that many associate with Brussels sprouts. The stench which reached our nostrils caused us to recoil in horror. Was it really legal to make available to the public something that stunk this bad? We'd been tasted two out of five though, and cranberry and pumpkin pie awaited. It's all downhill from here, we thought, if by downhill one means a rookie ski jumper with a fear of heights poised to slide down an icy half-mile ramp to who-knows-where. There was a lump in the pit of my stomach as I raised my cup to my lips. A sense of dread filled me as I let the first few drops flow onto my tongue. The room spun! "Aaaagh! What are you doing to me?" my palate screamed. My tastebuds were immediately routed by the assault and tried to flee, but there was no escape. There was to be no slow savoring of this vile potion. I would not have time to search out hints of prosciutto. My immediate objective now was survival. "Get that out of here!" my senses told me. Heroically, I switched to 'tequila' mode and threw the rest past my mouth and down my throat. I staggered and gasped for air. Surely man was not meant to be this cruel to his fellows. How had this stuff ever been brought to market? Could someone really sleep at night, knowing it had been their decision to unleash this horror on an unsuspecting world? This is the sort thing that ought to be reserved for the lower circles of hell. The most hardened prisoner would break down and weep, confessing everything, if confronted with this toxic brew. I searched desperately for something to chase this with, anything, even...
Cranberry with Orange: Yes! My tongue exulted in this sweet nectar of the gods, a drink surely meant to be paired with ambrosia and served forever at those eternal feasts. This was sheer bliss, tasting the rawness of the cranberry while traces of orange zest flirted with my palate. Of course, after the first sip had more or less chased most of the foulness of Brussels sprout soda away, reality resurfaced. A more sober second and third sip made it abundantly clear that this was not meant to be the cranberry soda of anyone's dreams. Overall, though, this substance had leapt into first place, in large part because cranberry (as a concept) is something I like, and could picture as a carbonated beverage in my mind. I suspect that a person could make a better cranberry soda by simply adding some dry ice to some Ocean Spray and waiting a few minutes for bubbles.
Pumpkin Pie: With fresh cream! A true dessert soda! This was it. The final sample awaited. Our ordeal was almost over. The last bottle was open, the orange-brown liquid poured, my hand lifting the cup to my nose to savor the aroma of...of...of RAW FREAKING PUMPKIN! The scent wafting through my nostrils was that of a freshly cut pumpkin, straight off the vine. 'The Brussels sprouts are behind you now,' I told myself. 'You can do this.' And with that thought to buoy my now sagging spirits, I did. It was not a good thing, that pumpkin pie soda. There were indeed hints of cinnamon and clove and ginger and whatever else goes into pumpkin pie, but most of all there was raw pumpkin overwhelming everything. Hey, Jones Soda! Next time bake the stuff first! Oh, man!
We were done now. We surveyed the table, littered with empty bottles and spent paper cups, and heaved a sigh of relief while trying not to heave anything else. We studied one another's faces, most twisted in agony, and knew that we now shared a common bond. We had stared death in the face and survived. Others might mock us for having tried, or been repulsed by the very idea of consuming such a thing, but we had overcome our fears. Let them mock. They mock out of fear and ignorance. We stand alone, a small, proud band, ready to try almost anything now, because we have survived the Jones Soda Holiday Pack, and, especially, Brussels Sprout Soda.
P.S. The belching started a little later. For some, it continued well into the evening, they later reported. That may have been the worst part, with small whispers of all five beverages rising back up into our throats hours after the ordeal had ended. I tell you true: A Holiday Pack suicide is not a pretty taste. And the guy who chased his Brussels sprout soda with a Pepsi? He was lucky. It only took him 24 hours or so before he could drink Pepsi again without tasting, well, you know... |
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