Archive for the ‘Raves’ Category

Things That Poop.

December 6, 2007

I have always said that any kind of joke dealing with poop is funny. It is. I thrive on finding gag gifts for my loved ones that revolve around poop. One of my favorite websites back in the day was I don’t know why, I just like stories, jokes, and anything else that involves poop. 

All of my friends know this. So yesterday I’m sitting at the jobby job and I get a text from my pal that she just saw a toy polar bear that poops brown jelly beans. I’m almost in disbelief because I cannot believe such a thing exists and that I don’t already know about it. I’m also touched that her other comment was that she instantly thought of me when she saw the pooping polar bear. I tell my boyfriend about this toy and he bursts my bubble by telling me he’s already seen it, and that he heard there was also some kind of pooping penguin that he really wanted, because, and don’t ask why, he seems to think he is much like a penguin. And we talk about shit on occasion. So, of course, being the person I am, I have to research all of the above.

I find out that the pooping polar bear and penguin both exist through a website I stumbled upon, although I have already been assured that these toys are available at my local Rite Aid store. I am determined to seek out these candy dispensers so I can bring joy to my boyfriend and to my sister, who also thinks poop is hilarious, mainly because she poops probably six or seven times a day. Seriously. I hit Rite Aid after work and find the bear and the penguin and purchase both, wondering what the lady ringing me up is thinking to herself about my choice in products. I immediately take the penguin to the boyfriend, who seems overly excited about his wind-up pooping penguin. I call my mother and tell her I’ve secured the most perfect stocking stuffer for my sister . . . the Sub-Zero Poopin’ Hero Poo-lar Bear. She has already been notified by my sister via email that this is the most fantastic gift anyone could get her, and she is so happy that I’ve done the dirty work for her in actually finding it and spending an entire $2.99 to put a smile on my sibling’s face.

I’ve decided that I may have to go back and get more of these insanely inappropriate pooping dispensers because everyone in my life seems to think they’re amazing. Who would’ve known that plastic animals that poop candy would be such a hit this holiday season?

Pooping Polar Bear

Pooping Penguin

Santa's gotta poop, too.


Pimentos Need Love, Too.

December 4, 2007

Call me trashy, but I love, love, lurve pimento cheese! It’s everything I could want, all rolled into one, usually plastic, container with red and black retro writing on it. It’s trailer park picnics at their best. It’s the perfect complement to pork rinds (although, that is just one of the trashy foodstuffs I cannot ingest . . . but please make sure you bring extra corndogs to suffice). It’s been good to you! It’s pimento cheese.

Growing up, my mother would not allow us to have junk food. McDonald’s was saved for those special times when we had a babysitter on a Friday night, or for after the softball game where I played exceptionally well. Even Cokes were saved for the weekends only. Which is completely ironic now that I’m an adult and that same “junk food” now pays my bills. Go figure. My point is, I never even knew what pimento cheese was until college. This may seem funny to you, but it is absolutely true. I basically grew up in the south and never came across pimento cheese. I’m not sure if it was the sheltered pantry my mother kept, or if it’s because I wasn’t interested in spreads on breads.

However, when I discovered this backyard delicacy, I immediately fell in love. Oh, the joy of cheese and whatever it is that makes it clump together like that was beyond anything measurable. I yearned for the trips to Wal-Mart where I could marvel at the vast variety of pimento cheese brands and flavors. I never dared buy them, though, because apparently, pimento cheese is not everyone’s favorite spread. In fact, most people look down upon it. I really didn’t care to have Sorority Sally shifting her eyes in my direction and throwing me one of those “that’s going straight to your thighs, buttercup” looks at me as I pick up the southern-style pimento cheese bucket from the dairy section. (And Sorority Sally can shoot me that look . . . she’s buying soy milk, like I should be doing.)

Even now, as a well-educated and tasteful adult, my love for pimento cheese has not wavered, and now the deli workers in my office building murmur to each other anytime I step up and ask for pimento cheese with tomato. Yes, I can tell that I’m the only one who actually orders the pimento cheese since when I get to it, it’s been sitting in it’s container, and has obviously been untouched during the daily lunch rush hour. But I want it. And I’ll take the ridicule. And to think, I was under the impression that I was giving the deli guy a break from the normal smoked turkey and ham with my scoop of pimento cheese.