Showing posts with label now im hungry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label now im hungry. Show all posts

Thursday, December 18, 2008

And Finally, A Cologne for You Chubby-Chasers Out There

Are you a man who is completely and overwhelmingly attracted to great big fat women? Are you having trouble seducing these rotund Aphrodites? Pheromones not attracting these large babes the way say... the enticing aroma of meat might? Well cheer the fuck up Charlie, because you are in luck this holiday season. To coin what I'm sure will become an immensely popular phrase, flame on!

The way to a man's heart may be through his stomach, but the way to a woman's heart — according to Burger King — may be through a new meat-scented body spray.

Of course, it's a treacherous path to said heart, filled with lipids and blockage from all that flame broiled deliciousness, not to mention all those
cheesy tots. But seriously. Let's all take a step back and drink that in for a minute. A meat-scented body spray. Meditate on that.

While fast-food chains aren't exactly best known for selling signature fragrances, on Sunday The Home of the Whopper rolled out a men's body spray called Flame by BK. The 5-ml bottles are available for sale in Ricky's stores in New York City and on a dedicated Web site, firemeetsdesire.com.

That's right. Fire meets desire. If someone can explain that to me, I would greatly appreciate it. My question is this - has this been rolled out to garner attention from assholes like me? So that it will be purchased solely as a novelty, joke-type item? Does it really smell like meat? If so, is there a disclaimer about using this body spray in the woods and on camping trips and such?

If you're salivating for a chance to marinate yourself in flame-broiled flavor, relax: The experience can be yours for just $3.99 — a small price to pay for some seriously mouthwatering mojo.

That's right chubby-chasers. This shit is all for you. Because this shit:


Would never fucking happen. ...or would it?

"My assumption when I heard about it was that it would smell like french fries and burgers," said Luis Bejaran, 24, who manages a Ricky's store on Eighth Street in Manhattan. But, he said, that wasn't the case. "It's a combination of Axe body spray, TAG and this YSL cologne I have. It's one of those scents that's not sweet, and light at the same time."


So... it smells nothing like meat? Now I'm just flat-out confused.

While Bejaran said he would be certainly be willing to set his body a-Flame, his female co-workers were not so sure about its meaty merits. "It's not the best choice for a man," offered one.



My guess is that if he's managing a Ricky's, his body is already quite flaming enough as it is, thank you very much. Stupid easy jokes aside, His female coworker is probably not a huge fat pig, which is why she is sooooo not the right person to ask about this. Sell this shit in the south, not NYC, you guys are totally shooting for the wrong demo here.


Still, as of Wednesday afternoon Bejaran says the store had sold at least 10 bottles, and plenty more people had stopped in or called to inquire about it. Many were drawn in by the store's window display, which currently features "the Burger King guy, half-naked," said Bejaran. Only four Ricky's stores were lucky enough to get the "King" special window treatment, however.

See, I would absolutely want one of those window treatments, as they are hilarious:



The cologne itself, however? Not so much. Also, how many fucking Ricky's are there, if only 4 were lucky enough to get the 'royal' window treatment? How many Ricky's do we need, really?

It's true that the reclining, vaguely nauseating Burger "King" does not make for the sexiest spokesperson, but his appeal, like the fragrance itself, may lie in its ridiculousness.

"Yes, the first thing that comes to mind when you think of our cologne should be something vaguely nauseating. That is precisely what we were going for." Though to be fair anyone who would wear the cologne or anyone who would be attracted to someone wearing the cologne, is in all likelihood, at the very very best, vaguely nauseating.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Welcome to Hell...Pizza. Can I Take Your Order?

Oh hi there. Did something happen last night? I was watching Boiler Room on repeat all night and didn't get a chance to ...what's that?... election you say? Well unless you voted yes on proposition pick up your skirt, grab your balls and make some money, I don't care. It's time for some fucking Hell Pizza.


A New Zealand pizza chain has withdrawn an advertisement showing the corpses of actor Heath Ledger, Britain's Queen Mother and Mount Everest conqueror Sir Edmund Hillary dancing on a grave.

[frantically searches internet for ad] DAMNIT. If this ever shows up online I will shit a cow. This sounds like it's easily the greatest piece of advertising ever. David Ogilvy is probably lol-ing in his grave right now, this is so awesome.


The animated Halloween promotion advertisement on the Hell Pizza website shows the three decomposing celebrities emerging from graves and dancing to Michael Jackson's song Thriller.


Oh man. I will literally suck the cock of the man who finds this ad online somewhere. And by 'I', I mean Berbalerbs(hope you like teeth, mystery man!).

TPF Group retail operations manager Glenn Corbett said the company, which owns the Hell Pizza chain, was withdrawing the advertisement but had not meant to offend the Hillary family.
"Clearly he's revered in New Zealand and we all love him," he said. "The idea of Sir Ed being there was intended to be a light-hearted remembrance."


"You see, by having his corpse do the thriller on a grave to sell our pizza, we thought his family would find it hilarious! What's the matter, they don't get jokes?" When you go to Hell Pizza's website, they give you two options, go straight to hell, or sell your soul. Here is the text accompanying the sell your soul bit:

Your soul doesn't do much. You can't feel it. You can't see it. It sucks at making coffee, and when you're buggered after a hard day, it'll never have dinner on the table. So give it to us. Then you can begin your descent into HELL. The deeper you go, the more retribution you'll receive for your measly soul. The retribution could be anything from free morsels of food to exclusive access to random stuff. That all depends on how good you are at being bad. And if you make it right into the darkest depths of HELL, then you'll receive free pizza for life. So sell your soul to us.

I'd like to make it known that I would gladly sell my soul for pizza, and I don't even like pizza. I don't know why they're getting flak when this is pretty clearly the most amazing pizza place on earth. And as it turns out, they're no strangers to controversy. Cuz' ya need a little. Controversy. Cuz' it feels so empty without me.


Last year, complaints forced it to withdraw billboards showing Adolf Hitler clutching a slice of pizza in a Nazi salute.

I don't see the problem with Adolf Hitler trying to convince people that Hell Pizza is delicious. Because if you can't trust Hitler with your dinner decisions, who can you trust?

Haha. No pizza for you. Unless they actually mean Hell hell. Like, there should be something worse than hell for W. In which case, weird. Because like, you're a pizza place, dude. Easy on the politics. On this day.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Writers' Strike Takes Its Toll: Monday Evening TV Edition

So last night was just another boring night without the prospect of anything particularly interesting happening. As 8pm rolled around, my options for television programming were severly limited. So shitty in fact, I honestly do not remember what I watched between 8 and 9:30. Nothing on any of the ten HBO channels, no good shows, not even Independence Day or Men In Black or The Fugitive on TBS or TNT!! I was in agony, but going through my DVDs (all the way in another room) was out of the question.

So I settled: Deal or No Deal from 9:30 to 11, with the prospect of switching back and forth to
Diners, Drive In's and Dives (which had two back to back episodes on starting at 10pm). Now, you are hopefully wondering why on earth I would want to watch Deal or No Deal. Truth be told, it is solely for schadenfreude. I enjoy watching people get greedy, get offered great deals for more money than they've ever seen before, turn it down because there is a 17% chance their case holds a million dollars, and then lose it all because they're greedy idiots who are charmed by a bald ocd case into believing misleading mathematical ideas.

Anyway, this particular episode was an hour and a half long, and was all new! and different! because this go-round, instead of (1) one million dollar briefcase, there were 10! one million dollar briefcases. It started off wonderfully enough, the woman chose four of the million dollar cases in a row. Way to go, jackass. Actually, let me back up. They never actually announced (or I didn't hear it anyway) how tall the woman actually was, but it's fair to say it was somewhere between 4'8 and 5'1, tops. I don't know if this is SOP for this show, but there were nonstop jokes from both Howie Mandell and the "banker" about how short this broad was - it was awesome. For no reason at all (except to kill time, I know) they brought out one of those things you see at carnivals that says, "you must be this tall..." only this one was the height requirement to win a million dollars. Well played, banker. The button that flashes for the contestant press to make a deal was "malfunctioning" and so the banker rectified the situation by lowering a new button from the ceiling that this chick couldn't have pressed if she were on stilts. You win, banker. In the end she fucked up having 10!!! million dollar cases and made a deal for like, just under three hundred grand. Who cares, I know. The important thing is that you read on, and understand just how awesome Diners, Drive In's and Dives is.

Hosted by Guy Fierri, -the winner of season 2 of The Next Food Network Star- this show travels across America to (you guessed it) awesome diners, drive in's and dives to places that have the best specials and delicacies. Guy is kind of ridiculous, with bleached blond spikey hair, and sunglasses that he wears backwards under his ears, and he also describes food as "money" and "out of bounds". He also refers to the show as "Triple D". I think I might hate him. All he does is go to amazing restaurants and eat ridiculously good food. I don't know if it is the show I like, so much as the idea of having his job. I came to the same conclusion while watching
Road Tasted and Feasting on Asphalt.

On Road Tasted, Paula Deen's two sons, who are also essentially best friends, go to a particular city each episode and go to famous and reknowned shops and eat delicious food and see how it's all made. They are obviously having an insane amount of fun and I am supremely jealous.

On Feasting on Asphalt, Alton Brown travels cross country on a motorcycle - taking only backroads, to get a taste for real American food. He has gotten to eat some of the most amazing looking food, and take incredible road trips on a motorcycle with friends. I am even more jealous of this show, since
Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance is one of my favorite books, and since I don't have the balls to own or ride a motorcycle, or the balls to take a cross country trip.

Have a look - below are some clips.

Diners Drive In's and Dives



Feasting on Asphalt


Road Tasted