ToyBox

My parents were always too cheap to get our family cable TV. If I wanted to watch soft core movies or MTV I would have to go to my friends' house. They all had the luxury of cable. So I spent the majority of my youth naive to awesome music videos and pop culture.

Then one glorious day I found a new channel on my TV. It was called "The Box." It played current music videos when people called and paid for them. I watched it constantly, fearing that if I turned the channel it would disappear from my channels into static forever. Thankfully it did not and I was introduced to several new and ridiculous bands, such as Lou Bega, Los Del Rio, Chumbawumba, and Eiffel 65.

Though one of the most spectacular videos I had the privilege to witness was by an "Aqua" ripoff band. The band is called ToyBox and the song was called "Tarzan and Jane." Toybox follows the popular formula established by Aqua (Male singer with rusty vocals and cute female lead singing ridiculous songs and being from a country in the Netherlands) but they actually do it better than Aqua. First of all the male vocalist isn't bald and old enough to be the girl's father. Secondly, the girl is pretty dang cute and is now my Danish pen pal.

The video, seen below, is mandatory viewing. Beware, it will stay in your brain for weeks to come. Just know that the chorus is timeless "Go Cheetah get banana! Hey monkey get funky!"



Every song on their "FanTastic" CD are themed as some sort of adventure. They range from a sailor song, a techno ET song, and a superman song cleverly titled super-duper man. Some of Toybox's most inspired lyrics actually come from that very song.

"I can see my house from here
Yeah, let's party-hardy over there
Can I touch your tingeling?
You make Superman go super-schwing"

Now that's art. Not since the compositions of Mozart and Bach have I felt so enlightened. I'm gonna let you in on a sad truth. I have listened to (and enjoyed) this annoying pop-techno CD a few times. My friend got it for me years ago as a joke for my birthday. For 13 year old girls this CD would be perfect to improve their wannabe cheerleading choreography. I played this CD every time I would want to make my friends laugh, but something strange happens after the laughter, you actually enjoy the mediocrity of it. You may laugh now, but just wait until you get to the track "Earth, wind, water, and fire." It is at that point you get hooked.

I have not listened to that CD for years. I don't know if I even own it anymore, but the songs are stuck in my head forever.

So for all of you looking for gimmicky crappy techno I recommend this obscure 90's duo. I give them four one-hit-wonder stars.

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The Origin

Years 15-18 were an awkward time for me. I had just settled in on the horse we call puberty, and was in for a long ride. Growing from 5'4" to 6'0" in a couple years while staying at 124 pounds just compounds the issues of self image. Add in a big nose, and connect-the-dot acne, and it's lucky I even went to my Prom.

To make matters worse, my music taste was not what one would call "main-stream" at the time. I remember in 8th grade, I had just transferred to a new school, and a large boy wearing a Guns n' Roses shirt stopped me in the hall and asked if I was a "waver." I said no, but my hairstyle betrayed my words. He laughed, and made fun of the fact that I liked "The Cure" and "The Dead Kennedy's." I still shudder thinking about that day.

The 90's were an welcome respite from the heavy metal/hard rock music that plagued the airwaves. Oh yes, I bought Def Leppard buttons to put on my Jean Jacket, but my heart wasn't in it. I longed for the mellow tunes of Oingo Boingo-like alternative bands.

In 1990, a song hit the radio that piqued my interest. It was from a band called "The Origin," and I was an instant fan. They had piano, guitar, bass, and great vocals. It was the pop/alternative type of music that rang true with college crowds nationwide. The seemed reminiscent of the Pixies, or the Church.



Their first (self-titled) album was fantastic. A light fare of good piano and vocals. Take a listen to their most popular song below. (Growing Old...it's the only copy on Youtube...and it looks like someone recorded it with a camcorder off MTV2)





Their second album was entitled "Bend," and was a completely different type of music. They obviously wanted a new sound, and went with a more electronic, brooding mix of vocals/piano/guitar. It was a great album, but didn't have the radio popularity of the first album. This also did well in the college crowd.

How obscure is this band? Well, I doubt anyone actually has an mp3 from them unless you ripped the CD yourself. You won't find their music on Itunes, amazonmp3, bit torrent, or any other online download site.
Do you want to read about the band on Wikipedia? Too bad, they don't have an entry. Is that even possible anymore on Wikipedia?

I know what you'll say....they suck, so nobody wants to hear their music anymore. Untrue. After "Bend," they broke up, and never released another album.

But in 2003, Michael Andrews (from the band The Origin) teamed up with Gary Jules to play a cover of the old "Tears for Fears" song Mad World.
For you that like movies, this song was featured on the Donnie Darko soundtrack. (one of my favorite Indie movies)
For you that are under 18, this song was also featured on the commercial for the video game "Gears of War."
Take a listen below....it's a great song.




If you run across "The Origin" in a used CD store, pick it up for 4 dollars, as it will be well worth it. If you have the CD, please rip it, and upload it to bit torrent and seed. I only have the tapes, and nary a tape player.

The Origin rocks to a 4-star rating in the pantheon of obscure 90's bands.

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Green Jelly

The early nineties were high school days for me. That meant MTV had music videos and trailer trash like myself still bought tapes instead of CDs. When thinking about obscure bands of the 90’s my memory somehow stumbled upon the less than famous, Green Jelly. If you know them, it is probably because of the one video that got a fair amount of MTV airplay. I remember watching when the "Three Little Pigs" song came on. I laughed my ass off at the part where a claymation Rambo comes in to take out the Big Bad Wolf with a 50 cal. Now that’s good TV. As I think about it, Rambo was no stranger to claymation. I believe he even had a clay-camio in Genisis’ "Land of Confusion" song. (Also a classic, but not really obscure….and they may have been puppets if not clay) I digress.

With songs like "Three Little Pigs", "Cereal Killer", and "The Bear Song" they kind of had the - take a kids theme, book, or character; rock it up with some kick-ass bass and shreddin’ guitar; mock the theme with some Dave Mustane-esque narration on top; and create a psychedelic puppet video – gimmick down pat. The cool thing was, they knew it was a gimmick and made fun of that fact, which made their music all the better.

They sold albums by making jokes. Ok, not many, but the music underneath was pretty good. I especially like the bass work. Some lyrics include "I’ve got poo poo on my shoe", always a crowd pleaser and "His daddy was a rock star named Pig Nugent". Come on, that is lyrical genius.

I also found out on my little tour down memory lane that their real band name was originally Green Jello but apparently Mr. Cosby and the Jell-o Corporation had a trademark or something, so after an initial printing of the first album, they had to change the name to Green Jelly and do a reprint with the new name. Just a little Green Jelly fun fact for you.

I like puppets and I love claymation so these guys are instant favs in my book. There was no musical fusion or revolution started by their antics, but to put it simply, they amuse me. If only I had a tape to MP3 convertor, I could get these classics uploaded to my Ipod. Until then, I’ll have to stick with YouTube for my nostalgic jelly. I think they summed up their work best by putting a banner up on the screen at the end of their video. It read:

" And the moral of the story is that bands with no talent can easily amuse idiots with a stupid puppet show."

I’m just that kind of idiot.

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Health Savings Account

Recently, my company made available an entire smorgasbord of health-care plans for its employees. While this may sound like a good thing, it was really just a way to increase our health care premiums.

True to our suspicions, the regular PPO 90/10 and 80/20 plans doubled in price. In addition, they offered a new plan called a high deductible plan. Basically this plan has zero monthly premiums (the company pays the fees) and you pay the entire fee when receiving medical care. Luckily, there are contracted rates so you won't end up paying $175 dollars for a 10 minute appointment. Just kidding...you still will. That's the contracted rate. Leeches.

Right away, we thought this was a joke. A plan that costs the company little money, and puts the employee footing the entire bill? Do I work for the government?
Interestingly enough, it actually ends up being very cost-competitive with the other plans.
Your total deductible is just over a couple thousand dollars. After this is met, you go onto a 80/20 plan.

If you were to enroll in the 80/20 plan up front, you would pay a couple thousand dollars in premiums even if you took zero benefits for the year.
Another advantage in the high deductible plan is that you can choose to purchase your prescriptions wherever you choose. So, if I can find Viagra much cheaper from a guy named Paco who sells them out of the back of his Cabriolet, then I'll do it there rather than heading over to Walgreen's.

So what to do with all this leftover money that you would have paid to insurance premiums?
Hookers? A riding lawnmower? Give it to Obama?

Contribute to a Health Savings Account duh. (HSA)

Basically a HSA is a savings account in which you contribute tax-free dollars. (similar to a flex spending account) This account can be used to pay for virtually everything medical related. In addition, it is your permanent account. It carries over from year to year, regardless of which company you work for. Did I mention that it also collects interest? Bitchin! Tax-free Robitussin??!! Double-bitchin!!


Let's take a couple real-world examples which would show the benefit of this plan.

Suppose you contribute a couple thousand dollars to your HSA in a calendar year, but don't incur very high medical expenses. Let's say you only incurred 500 dollars of medical expenses for a voluntary 4-knuckle prostate exam. You would have 1500 dollars the next year for medical expenses.
If you continued to contribute a couple thousand dollars the next year, you'd have enough for Lasic, or to remove those unsightly bunions.

Alternatively, let's say you have a major surgery during the year. You would end up draining your HSA, and then after you met your deductible, you would move automatically over to the 80/20 plan.

I kind of like to look at my current health care plan as a hand of blackjack. I am sitting on a pair of Aces, and I'm going to split my hand with the dealer showing a 6. The odds are pretty good that I'll walk away with some money, but you never know if the dealer will throw you a 7 and a 6, and work his way to a 20 on 4 cards.

HSA's get a money-saving 4 stars out of 5.

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Dirty Talk

Here at review spew we like to not only inform, but instruct on occasion, when it seems appropriate. Further, to handle this delicate topic I’ve decided to use Cosby’isms that were made famous by one of my all time favorite celebs Bill Cosby. Throughout this review, I will use the terms foul, filth, and flarn in place of other, less subtle adjectives, adverbs, verbs, and nouns.

Ladies, I want to review an often underappreciated, underused enticement that you have at your disposal. The power of audio stimulation can do wonders for the bedroom. Your oohs and ahhs are appreciated, don’t get me wrong, but please don’t limit your utterances to the cliché. Open your mind and your voice and you can bring your partner to a whole new level of ecstasy. This review is specifically geared toward a woman using the "potty language" on her man. I am in no way advocating the "trash jaw" going the other direction because I have no idea how all ladies will take it. My man-view is universal.

I think the use of "dirty mouth", or the "filthy talk" creates four distinct gardens of excitement for men.

1. Seduction
Sneak up on your man out of the blue and whisper in his ear "I need your flarn right now." Or try "Come in the back room and filth me!"

Start your monthly interlude with some descriptive complements about his body. For instance, "I love to look at your foulness." Or "Pull back your belly guts and let me get a look at that filthy flarn."

I realize that the graphic stuff may not be appropriate every day, but throw in a little here and there and see if it turns him on like I suggest.

2. Instruction
Let me start by saying, we don’t know what the hell we are doing when it comes to your bodies.

There are entirely too many buttons, pulleys, and levers for us to ever get the sequence, tension, and pressure right. So why not implement a little "gutter gab" to point us in the right direction?

We are not offended by helpful hints that get us in the ballpark. I love to hear "Faster, slower, harder, softer, higher, lower." If you’re happy, we’re happy. So help us make you happy. Speak up!

3. Enhancement
In the throws of passion, the crazy monkey-love variety, there is virtually nothing that you can say that is off limits, offensive, or too graphic. Women, you may think you sound stupid, trust me, you don’t. We appreciate the effort and love to hear you get nasty. I am talking about all guys here. I’ve had countless conversations with the fellas and they all, from the Priests to the porn addicts, all, love to hear your "freak speak".

Disclaimer: I said virtually nothing is off limits, but let’s be reasonable here. Very little in the way of nastiness coming from the ladies is going to offend us but you do have the ability to instantly kill the mood. Here’s the deal. Stay away from the technical, clinical crap. This is one time when you need to stick to the slang. I don’t know where my perineum is and I don’t want to hear about what you are going to do to it. This isn’t biology class. Stick to the basics. The rule of thumb is, if it is printed on packaging that can be sold at Wal-Mart or is a word you don’t know how to spell…..rephrase.

4. The Closer
This one is specifically for the ladies. I know you get sick of us and our insatiable appetites. So here is a little trick to get it over quick. I do have to give credit to Robert Schimmel for this one, but it is absolutely true. You want that sweaty hog of yours to finish-up and get the hell off of you so you can get some sleep? Try this.

Simply say, "Wait, don’t flarn yet!" Make it believable and use that husky voice we love. Once you utter the word "flarn", it’s a done deal. He’s over before he knew what happened. You see, we are usually concentrating very hard on lasting as long as possible. We think about piles of dead babies, our grandmothers, we count by 9’s up to the low hundreds, recite baseball stats..whatever we can do to add an extra three minutes to our game. You throw in a "Not yet", or "don’t flarn" and those words trigger instant completion. It is uncanny. We think you really wanted it to go on, so we feel like a no-stamina loser, but you get to go straight to sleep. Our shame passes quickly and we’re asleep in no time too, so it’s a win-win. Try it, I’m not lying.

So on every level, I think the letting the foul, filthy, flarn fly will make your man a happy one in no time. The more uncharacteristic this type of speech is for you, the hotter it sounds to him. I think I speak for a ton of guys when I give "dirty talk" a great, big, filthy four stars.

Second disclaimer: Ladies, please listen closely here. There is one word that is completely off limits and should never be used under any circumstances. It may seem harmless at first and you may be tempted to use is during the "instruction" stage of pillow talk but I implore you to not use it. Please, never, ever use the word "deeper".

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Jack in the Box Sirloin Burger

Let’s face it; our nation has grown accustomed to the life of fast food. I think the latest figures that came out put roughly 99.8% of our country’s population in the "VERY overweight" category. Thank you! Drive through!

It’s a faced paced and vigorous world out there for the few of us that still have jobs. Wake up early, get the kids up, feed the animals, streak into the bathroom before a female occupies it for the entire morning, get dressed, change shirts at least twice due to unexpected spills, take kids to school, yell and scream at the guy who cut you off as you are headed to work. *Whew! And that all happens before 8 am. Before you know it lunch time is here. I think we all know that strenuous labor we so worked so proficiently on deserves an energy filled meal. Something to carry us through the rest of the afternoon, I mean after all, our companies are depending on us.

I, like most people I am sure, don’t always have the time to get the juicer out and feed the whirling animal like machine carrots, celery, a banana, and some paprika for a lunchtime meal before heading off to work for the day. The fact is, often times, I don’t have time for lunch at all. In a perfect world we would all have adequate time, resources, and budget to go home and relax while we prepared ourselves a nutritionally balanced meal containing fresh fruits and vegetables. My world, however, is far from perfect. When I do find time for a meal, if that’s what you want to call it, I often find myself staring at a drive-up speaker yelling at some high school kid with a headset. I just hope that my meal closely resembles what was relayed through what sounded like two soup cans connected by a piece of string. I don’t even bother saying no tomato, extra pickles and light mayonnaise anymore. Nope, you have better luck just saying what number you want and throwing the stuff you don’t like out the window at passing vehicles. You start to get picky or try an attempt to "have it your way" and that will piss a fast food employee right off. Want to get your food screwed with? Go ahead, start barking out special requests and see just how much special attention your order gets.

I have toured the fast food companies with the best of them. Truck drivers don’t have anything on me. I know how many chicken nuggets you can get or what the fillet o fish comes with. I know that the double whopper doesn’t have cheese unless you ask nicely, but the regular whopper does. I won’t even go into Wendy’s, as that was my first and still favorite place of employment. With all this consumption of fast food I still try to do my part to stay in shape. I make a valid attempt to chase anyone I can on foot rather than using the dog or the vehicle. I will often times even walk to the garbage instead of hurling the wrappers and empty fry containers across the office. I just don’t want to give anyone the impression Im fat and lazy. Do I eat badly? Yes, certainly so, but I will still look good when the cardiac arrest comes into play.

With that said, I had an experience I thought deserved some recognition. Tired of the same old food choices, I traveled a little further down the road and was tempted enough to stop at Jack in the Box. When I arrived at the menu I was a little shocked at some of their recent changes. First of all I noticed the delicious looking smoothies..mmmm, yummy! Ciabatta chicken and burgers, fish and chips, Asian salads, and of course the little jewel that caught my eye. The new Jack in the Box Sirloin Bacon and Cheese Burger! Whoa mamma! Deservingly this baby is numero uno on the ol' menu.

I pulled forward and was warmly greeted by Michelle, the young lady who was in charge of taking my order. After Michelle asked how I was doing, provided her sign and favorite type of music, I was ready to order. The sounds of the speaker were almost digital, crisp and understandable. I ordered the number one with all the fixin’s. Michelle then asked if I would like regular fries or curly, curly of course and for the beverage… a Dr. Pepper to top things off. Michelle then offered me some desert which took up another full section of the brilliantly lighted menu. I panicked and denied. She thanked me for my order and asked me to pull forward if my screen looked correct.

When I arrived at the window I swiped my own card. Michelle was a nice looking middle aged woman. Although probably part of the community work release program, she still had manners and was no longer in high school. I’m not sure if that was by her choosing or not. After receiving my food I quickly found a place to dive in.

The curly fries were hot and crisp, the seasoning just perfect. Although I hadn’t asked for it, I had been provided enough ranch sauce for twice the amount of fries I had. Unlike only getting one packet of boring ketchup at those other places. Now for the real surprise, the Sirloin Burger. When I removed this beast from the bag I was actually shocked at its container. A sturdy octagonal shaped (I think it had that many sides) heavy duty cardboard encompassed this meal of a burger. I would have had no issues with dropping this thing out the window at speeds up to sixty miles per hour and returning to find the burger inside unharmed. I have purchased limited edition Star Wars figures without this nice of a case. When I opened the case I saw that the burger itself was wrapped the same way those fancy restaurants do with a nice white absorbent wrapper covering about half the burger. This will come in handy for you cubicle workers, preventing a third shirt change for the day.

The Sirloin Burger comes with a bakery style bun. This is a delicious tasting bun in and of itself, truly a bakery style delight and big enough to hold the large amount of toppings and meat inside without worry. It also comes with peppercorn mayo, fresh red onion rings, fresh cold lettuce, juicy and ripe red tomatoes, pickle fillets, top grade bacon slices, real cheddar cheese, and of course the seasoned sirloin beef patty.

When I took a bite of this thing the seasoning and juices actually exploded in my mouth. Not quite as severe as pop-rocks with a Pepsi shooter, but darn close. This is by far the best tasting fast food burger I have ever tasted. I felt special with its fancy wrapper and will probably use the container as a coffee table when I get home. This thing blows those expensive burgers you can order from Chilies and Applebee’s way out of the water. Although it’s not as cheap as Matt’s two Big Mac deal, it really wasn’t priced too bad for what you get. After large sizing the meal and getting an entire plate full of curly fries and one gallon of soda, I was still under the seven dollar mark.

Jack in the Box assures that no child will be left behind, because nobody will be getting their fat ass off the couch after eating this thing. With the bacon and cheese, you are looking at about 1100 calories and roughly 70g total fat. WOW! What the heck, you really need to experience this thing at least once, just to say you did it.

If they would have offered this at two for four dollars, I would probably have given it my first five star rating. It is a little expensive, and likely to make you want to nap instead of head back to the office, so I will give it a solid three stars. Jack has done an excellent job in the fast food market.

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He's Just Not That Into You

In order to review this movie, I would have had to seen it first. And I would have to admit to seeing it. This is a sad day where I feel like I have lost at least a quarter of my already declining testerone.

You'd think I was doing my wife a favor by telling her to go to this movie with her sister. Then she wouldn't have to deal with all my whining. But no, she tells me that she sees "my movies" all the time and I need to go with the both of them for my cinema castration.

Chick flicks are a funny thing. They have found a pattern and they stick with it. They go like this:
Girl has an ex-boyfriend that is a jerk but she still hangs around.
Nice Guy is trying to win a bet with his friends to get a girl.
Nice Guy is sarcastic and swoons the girl.
Music montage ensues, where they fall in love.
It's exposed that both male and female have lied. They fight and break up.
Girl gets back together with jerk ex.
Nice guy and girl both realize that they want each other.
Some kind of chase involving running, a boat, or car ensues.
Happily ever after.

There is hardly any original thought in chick flicks. I give "not into you" an ounce of credit for wanting to try new things. It wasn't entirely predictable. Though that might be because it had so many characters and so little time to fill cliches.

So, we bought our 3 tickets for the show. My wife and her sister went to get our reserved seats and I went to the bathroom. (too much information? too bad.) When I found our row I saw that my seat was filled, by a younger girl. My wife told me the situation: These sorority sisters couldn't get seats together and so they took mine. The girls apologized profusely and my wife laughed. I threw up my hands and said that I'm going to "push" or "coraline." The show was completely sold out except for one available seat. This seat just happened to be the one in between Devo from the "Friday" movies(let's just say he was a very large black man with arms the size of my torso.) and on the other side a mexican just as big. I refer to him as Cezar. So I sat there like the scrawny whitey I am. I couldn't use the arm rests because their triceps took over. Uncomfortable. So yeah, I was the one weird pervert who goes to movies by himself.

The movie itself was mostly unenjoyable. I wanted to laugh with the rest of the crowd but I couldn't bring myself to. The girls in the crowd absolutely loved the movie. And they should, it was made for them. the main character was someone they could relate all their issues to. The unmarried guys in the audience sat grimacing with pain, but knowing they would most likely get action for their act of selflessness.

Let me tell you the low points. Drew Barrymore looks like the old maid and is out of place. Just because you produce the movie doesn't mean you have to be in it. Jennifer Aniston and Ben Affleck have no chemistry. Not into you is a long movie, and it feels long. Nearly 2 1/2 hours. Wow. Is it a sequel to Return of the King? For those of you who like clean movies be warned of a awkward bump n'grind scen with Bradley Cooper and Scarlet Johannsen. Do not see with parents. I haven't seen groping like that since scout camp. (possibly the creepiest thing I have ever said)

One big problem. Scarlet used to be fighting Jessica Alba in the playoffs for my heart. Now Scarlet is a chunky monkey. She is not the sex symbol she used to be. Yes she has nice lips but she has a man voice. I apologize to any ladies out there for my comments. You might call her curvy, I call her chubby. How far the mighty have fallen.

The pros of the movie are Ginifer Goodwin in the lead as the relatable quirky girl and Justin Long is good as well. Bradley Cooper looks to be a star but did no favors to himself in the jerk role. Jennifer Connelly is a standout and she actually appears to be acting, in comparison with the other actors. She plays uptight OCD very well.

If you're a woman (do we have any women readers?) then there is a good chance you will like this movie more than I do. If you are a guy seeing this on a date, then try and enjoy it for action sake. If you are a guy who goes to movies by himself, look for me so I have someone to sit with.

I wanted to give the movie and the experience of He's just not that into you 1 1/2 stars but I'm gonna round it down to 1 overcrowded star.

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Diet Soda

As our newest guest reviewer, we welcome "Barbender" to Review-Spew. -Meatwad


The scenario starts like this; you are in a restaurant with a couple friends. The waitress comes over and you all start to order. When she gets to your friend, the one with a little bit of a weight problem, his order generally goes something like this:

"I would like a double bacon cheeseburger, extra cheese, tots not fries, and why don't you start me out with a side salad with extra ranch, please. (Salad makes fat people feel healthy) Oh, and to drink, I would like a LARGE diet soda."

Diet soda please!? What in the hell? Why? Is it the carbonated, dirt-flavored water that you so desire? It tastes like crap, so what is the purpose?

If you ask them, they will acknowledge their weight problem and then spew out some nutritional garbage about how a regular, large soda has 8 tablespoons of sugar and 400 calories. Why waste all of those calories on just a drink? Heck, you could order another couple of cheeseburgers for that many calories. And how the heck is it that every overweight person knows the ingredients of every freakin' food made and have the audacity to give you a lecture on the nutritional value of it? Further, they will actually advise you, the skinny guy, on what you should and shouldn't eat. (I know this because I do it all the time) Are you with me people? I know you are thinking of someone exactly like this right this second.

This attitude and way of thinking for Americans is the reason why so many are overweight (enough with being P.C., they're fat). Have you ever noticed that only fat people drink diet? Very few people not struggling with their weight drink diet, most order water, ice tea, coffee, and even regular sodas. Watch the next time you are out with friends. The waitress can always tell who ordered the diet. It's always the fat guy. Wouldn't it make sense that they would be the one with the 400 calorie regular soda? I say nay.

I won't spend time spewing nutritional studies or jargon about how diet soda kills you, or gives you diabetes, or is formaldehyde like so many websites have already posted. Rather, I will make a more realistic, non-scientific, in your face observation that the reality is: Only fat people drink diet soda!

I am living, breathing proof of this fact and have the same habit like most other Fatty McFattys. I drink at least three to four cans of diet soda every day. I am a complete hypocrite and justify it to myself the same way, I'm saving calories. Like I mentioned, I figure by skipping the sugared soda, I can get that other side of ranch dressing instead. Hell, who am I kidding? Throw in another "Number 2", I can afford it now that I am drinking diet! Diet soda has become a new way of adding food to my plate.

It gets worse. This way of thinking infiltrates the gym too. I used this technique when I was lifting weights. I figured an extra hour in the gym merits at least one extra full meal. What a deal. I can eat more, a whole lot more. I guess I have come to the realization that no matter how you look at it, this thought process is really just an obsession with eating delightfully delicious, greasy, fried meals.

Conclusion: Diet soda is an absolute joke that I have proven through years of observation that only fat people drink. I am almost convinced that diet soda has a chemical in it to slow the metabolism too. What better way to keep customers than to keep you fat by drinking something with the word diet on the label? So drink up, we can all sleep better at night, except for a mild case of "fat guy snore" and the constant struggling for breathe under a massive amount of fat that happens to be crushing your throat and lungs.

Hang on. I lost my train of thought. I had to get a gulp of my diet Pepsi before continuing…..and no, I am not joking.

So, I think will skip lunch today and just drink my diet soda. That way, I have an actual credit of calories for dinner. I'm brilliant! Good luck and drink on my fat friends. The diet awaits!

I give diet soda one star, but only because I revel in my addiction.

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Newspapers

In this techno-age of passing communication, the newspaper is a dinosaur headed for extinction.

I believe this is happening for multiple reasons.

People want things quicker. You can get instant news on CNN immediately after it happens, rather than waiting for the next morning.

People can't sit still for more than 5 minutes. I believe that many people get their news from reading the headlines. Why would they want to actually read the article, or sit down for a good op-ed piece?

Reading is becoming over-rated. Too many other forms of entertainment are taking up our time. Reading doesn't stimulate some people like video games, TV, or Dungeons and Dragons.

And lastly, you cannot go directly from a newspaper to porn. If you're looking on the Internet at porn, you could easily have another tab open to your favorite erotica site.


Unfortunately, I think that the newspaper is getting a bum rap. There are 3 instances where a newspaper is not only a positive, but absolutely necessary.

The first is on Thanksgiving for the Black Friday ads. I don't dare brave the crowds as my wife does, but I'll sit and pore over the 11 pounds of advertisements, wishing that Obama would give me free money.

The second is while eating breakfast. Let's be honest. While eating Cinnamon toast crunch, you don't want to spill your milk on your laptop. But you can splatter all the milk you want on the obituaries. In fact, a newspaper acts as a convenient place mat on the table.

The third and final instance where a newspaper is a necessity, is the bathroom. The newspaper was cater made to be read on the john. Take in the "Life" section, and read up on local concerts while taking care of business. Upon exiting the restroom, make a quick deposit of the newspaper into the garbage. (this is very important...do not leave your newspaper in a public bathroom. I believe this is where SARS was born)

Unfortunately, people have shifted into bringing all sorts of electronics into the bathroom to pass the time. Cell phones, laptops, and IPOD's are constantly heard clicking in public restrooms nationwide. I sure hope you have a pocketful of sanitary wipes, because if not, you are the most disgusting person ever.

For example, lets say you enjoy text messaging on the pot. Prior to sitting on the seat, you've touched the door handle to get in the restroom, and the "locker" on the stall. There is now no less than 53 different "man-bits" germs on your hand. You then reach into your pocket to send a few messages. Have you ever noticed the greasy fingerprints on your phone? Gil Grissom wouldn't need his fancy CSI tools to pull a print from your phone. He'll only need a napkin imprint as the DNA left behind could spawn an army of viruses and sicknesses enough to plague a 3rd world country.
But this is not the worst part. You wash your hands vigorously before you leave the restroom because you take pride in being clean.
You then make a call later in the day using your poo-phone, and get feces, boogers, and all sorts of germs on your face. Plus, you let your kid play with your phone when you get home to keep him appeased before dinner. What kind of parent are you?

In addition to these 3 instances when a newspaper is necessary, I compiled other things that newspapers can be used for.

Paper mache--How many times have you wanted to do this, but lacked newspaper?
Lining pets cages--Parakeets worldwide benefit from newspaper.
Making sailor hats--I don't know how, but I've seen it done.
Starting fires--In lieu of gasoline, this is key.
Sears lingerie ads--How would 14 year old boys worldwide get by?


I think I've proved my point, and believe the newspaper is still something that all Americans should consider subscribing to.
I currently do not. Why not? Because the paper boy won't drop it on my doorstep. He leaves it on the front of the driveway, and that's just too far to walk for me.

4 fish wrap star out of 5.

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Flowers

I think it is time to get to the "heart" of the matter. Flowers and greeting cards are contrived gifts that great marketing have established as staples, no that's an understatement, requirements of any man who loves his woman.

Ladies, do you know how much this crap costs? Do you know the absolute waste of cash this is for the sole purpose of proving our love? I know I am going to be considered a rebel for even mentioning this notion, but we are all playing right into their hands, the hands of the flower-producers, candy makers, and greeting card writers.

Example 1: You sit down with your "Honey" at a decent restaurant, not 5-star, but decent. You know the bill is going to be roughly $60 - $80 after tip, so you eat light because at the moment of ordering, the world is her oyster, not yours. Ten minutes into the meal a spry young man walks over to your table with a basket of single, long-stem roses and asks "A pretty rose for your pretty lady?" You now have two choices. First, you can ask him the cost which basically negates the second part (where you actually buy it) because only a cheap bastard would be so unromantic as to bargain with the seller of the ubiquitous token of love. Second, you can say "Certainly" and watch the smile grow on her face as you search for the $8 in your wallet. To further show your "suaveness" you tip the guy and thank HIM for the pleasure. $10, 1 rose, instant of happiness for her, but it really won't even make it to a vase. Who the hell puts one rose in a vase? The best you can hope for is that she crushes it in a book after drying it so she can open her "keepsake" box in a year and spend 15 minutes cleaning up the potpourri that just spilled all over her lap. In the process, the memory is replaced with rancid flower-dust cleanup.

Example 2: Your wife/girlfriend works with any number of other people and Valentine's Day comes 'round. If any other person in that office gets a work day delivery and she doesn't, you my friend are worthless. Bragging rights about how romantic you are as a man-friend are way more important than the flowers ever were. You better have lots of red petals, a vase, something chubby and fuzzy, and if you really want to seal the deal, something heart-shaped and made of Mylar floating 3 feet above the rest of your $100 "proof of love".

Example 3: It is your anniversary; you are very tight on money and have agreed to just spend time together as your gift to each other. Men, don't fall for it. Second mortgage the house, sell a kidney, do something, but you better have some flowers and a $5 card with a Hallmark stamp on the back or you are a dead man. Is anyone with me here? Has my day-in, day-out devotion over the last 13 years really been reduced to this trivial token? Yes, it has...and I know that.

Example 4: I won't go into specifics about timing but this is where many men go awry. You need to drop some cash on flowers at least one other time during the year for no specific reason. This is extremely important so set your phone calendar. If you don't do it, then the anniversary and Valentine's Day purchases seem like something you only do out of obligation, which of course, is absolutely true. Add one other day, and the same action just came from the heart and the two "required" days become more meaningful.

So what is this about? Some symbol of Spring and fertility from the Pagans? Who knows the origin but the fact is now it is about tradition and love. Neither of which can be broken. We men will do anything to try to make you ladies happy. So we go along with it because it seems that for the three meager days that the flowers last, you think we have proven our love a little more. You have a little more insight to something we never questioned. I guess it could be worse, gladiators used to die in the arena to prove such things.

It is utterly wasteful and ultimately means nothing, but for that one smile, we drop $60 to $100 for a consumable, short-lived, commercially generated, sign of the heart. The new microwave you've needed for 3 months will have to stay on the backburner because I promise you, if you are in a relationship that you want to have last, the flowers are the only choice. Since we are being honest, there is also some distant hope for some hot V-Day action, but get that out of your head boys, that too is pretence enough to negate the deal. If these weeds were somewhat reasonably priced, I would never write such things, but they are a major investment that I have spent many a year trying to figure out how to fund. I know, this is a moot point and I will likely continue to prove myself in the manner Proflowers devised. The fact is and has always been than her happiness will ever trump my wallet. So ladies, please enjoy them...and maybe consider the hot V-Day action on your own?

BTW, the two stars are for the smile...not the flowers.

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Checks

We are proud to offer one of our first guest reviews on Review-Spew. Welcome, Albino Rhino. May your words inspire and your review inform. Thanks for taking the old adage "Don't knock it till you review it" to heart. -Meatwad



Many of you may already know me, as Meatwad was able to pull me away from another very popular blogging site. For those of you who don’t know me, well, let’s just say that little map over in the corner with the red dots indicating the reader locations will probably just be a big red splurge from all of my followers.

Ok, in all actuality, this is my first blog…ever! Yes I know it’s hard to believe. I am slowly realizing there is a rather large cult-like underground world of bloggers. Somehow I totally missed out on this until now. I have been following the Review-Spew blogs since its start. Matt, Major_Undeclared, and Meatwad have done a fine job in keeping my attention with their great reviews. I have even seen people wearing their T-shirts on a few occasions. So I am anxious to throw my hat in the ring.

I wasn’t entirely sure of the rules. Nobody told me if I could talk about nudity and porn, or use foul language, so I wanted to keep it safe, so as to not get kicked off after my first review. In contemplating my first review, I immediately thought of one of the banes of my existance. I was in the bank a few weeks back opening up a new checking account. Now during this process, and during the course of several years at my current job, I realized how absurd a checking account really is. Lets jump back into history twenty years or so. At a young age I worked on the family farm making what was some pretty good money for someone that age. My parents, at their feeble attempt to teach me responsibility, opened up a checking account for me. I slaved away from sunrise to sunset during the summer. Each payday I would go to the bank and deposit my paycheck into the checking account.

Soon summer ended and I was back in school. I had a huge, almost odd, fascination with Bo Jackson (another blog idea!) at the time. It didn’t take long to meet that kid that had just about every baseball and football card ever made. I remember him quite well. Pudgy, stain on his shirt that was about two sizes too small, in need of a haircut, and glasses which could start dry grass on fire if the sun were to hit them just right. Regardless of his appearance, he had the goods I was in search of, Bo Jackson cards. We made the trek to his house after school one day. Down the stairs into the basement we went. Upon entering his room he opened a box which was organized and alphabetized in a manner of OCD I have never seen since. He removed the requested cards and laid them before me. The price was fifty dollars American currency. Little did I know I would pay more for these three cards than my entire collection would ever be worth.

I’ll take them I said as I drew out my checkbook. The smell of the blue vinyl cover made my hands shake as I wrote out the fifty dollar check. I handed the kid the check and he just sat there and looked at me in disbelief. There was no way a thirteen year old kid was going to take a check from another kid his age for baseball cards. Nope! Not gonna happen. I finally got to take my baseball cards home but it took some substantial effort and a long walk to the local grocery store to cash the check.

Now, years later, adults are still writing out promises to pay on pieces of paper. Why in the word are grown human beings still using checking accounts? I mean, if a thirteen year old is smart enough to know that there may very well not be any damn money in your account, and he is trading goods for worthless paper, when are the rest of us going to catch on?

So, as I sat there in the bank opening my new checking account, I thought to myself, why are we really still using these things? The big hype now is GO GREEN, save the environment, recycle, be earth friendly. The bank was willing to give me exactly seventy-five books of checks free. That has to be a lot of paper right? Worthless paper in my opinion, paper I will never use. In the age of paperless billing, credit cards, automatic payments, and ATM machines, adults are still really given little rectangular pieces of paper to write random amounts of money, which in essence we will try to pay back at some later time!?! This makes no sense to me, none..notta...zip.

I suppose in a society where everyone was responsible and honest this whole checking account might be somewhat of a good idea. I think we all know at this point, a place like that doesn’t exist. People have almost gone out of their way recently to cheat, lie, and steal instead of paying for it. If you have a checking account, there is really no reason to dress up in dark clothing with a ski mask. Simply walk into a store and write out a check. The clerk will smile at you, give you your merchandise, and off you go. Of course, you don’t live at the address on your check, and the phone number listed is out of service but that little piece of paper that you wrote the store is a promise and everyone keeps their promises.

As if that wasn’t enough to make checks irritating, I stopped by Wal-Mart shortly after ( I know I know…but hey where else can you get new tires, flowers for the ladies, and adopt a beta fish in one stop?). After selecting some must have items I rushed to the twenty items or less checkout stand. The sweet little old lady in front of me had about four items. She was standing there dressed so eloquently, smiling and holding her coin purse. The clerk was done scanning her items in 2.7 seconds. When given the total, I watched in horror as she opened her clutch, and withdrew a checkbook. OMG!!! NOOO. I mean, people are shooting people on the roadway because another car cut them off, I promise you it won’t be long until check writers are dropped on the spot. The only thing that saved this lady was the fact that she looked so sweet and smelled of a soft flowery fragrance. By the time she was finally done writing her check I was late to work. I personally see no need for checks in this modern age. We should rename the checking account, get rid of checks, and pretend we were never foolish enough to allow this all to happen in the first place.

I give the whole checking account one star, and that’s only because I still have my three Bo Jackson baseball cards. If anyone is interested, make me an offer. I don’t accept checks!

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