Want Some Cereal?

Breakfast. It's claimed to be the most important meal of the day. Why? Does it really give you that zest needed to start off your day? Can breakfast somehow raise your scores exponentially on standardized tests? FALSE. Just to let you know, out of the hundreds of millions of people in the United States that eat cereal every morning, 87% of them are children. Furthermore, 59.2% of all statistics are also made up on the spot. I digress. When I was younger, I couldn't wait until Sunday or Saturday morning when my mom or dad would make the "big breakfast." The big breakfast consisted of either french toast or a cheese omelet, 2 or 3 slices of sharp cheese, pulpless orange juice (because who likes to chew their beverage), and swine. When I say swine, I mean almost endless plates of bacon, scapple, and sausage. God DAMMIT do I love the pork. Anyway, the reason why the big breakfast was looked forward to every Friday night was because from Monday to Friday I was subjected to its inverse: the little breakfast. Oh, you don't know how many Thursday mornings I would wake up and pray, by the graces of Thor the Thunder God, that someone had broken into my home the night before and poked holes in the gallon of whole milk (because skim is NOT milk...) and buried the cereal boxes at the bottom of the dirty clothes bin. Needless to say, I do not believe in you anymore, Thor. All I am saying, is who really likes cereal? I wouldn't ever consider it food, yet these cereal corporations work tirelessly to create marketing schemes and colorful mascots to make the "little breakfast experience" a healthy and well balanced start of my day. Excuse me, Mr. Cereal CEO (you know I actually like that title) but I do not find ANYTHING remotely healthy or balanced going on with Smaks the Frog...

My beef, for lack of a better word, with the cereal industry is that these companies create mascots for their products that are blatantly representative of the underclass we have in America. However, we overlook any obvious character flaws these mascots regularly exhibit due to the character's funny voice, bright colors, and humorous style of dress. These cereal companies have successfully created a fraternity of physically destructive, drug addicted, possibly child molesting, and overall funny looking mascots who have been staring you and me in our faces every Monday through Friday morning for our entire lives. Should the trend continue, who knows what bigger, better, and bolder mascot will capture the hearts and imaginations of our little breakfast consuming children. Is the world really ready for Eve the Milk Mama?

Look at Lucky from the Lucky Charms cereal brand. There's obviously something terribly wrong with this little man. Who really still thinks leprechauns are fun? Personally, if you take away their hats, leprechauns starkly resemble Prince. As for Lucky's cereal, it's 75% marshmallow (disregard my previous statement about statistics, America). Half of Lucky Charms' commercials show this man curled up in a little ball sitting in dimly lit areas whispering to himself, "they're after me Lucky Charms." Is that even proper English?! Furthermore, if he wasn't so hopped up on marshmallows to begin with, he could remember that children actually are mesmerized by magic. And, oh yea, LEPRECHAUNS KNOW FUCKING MAGIC. There is obviously something illegal in that little red box...or there should be at least. Hearts, stars, horseshoes, clovers and blue moons, pots of gold and rainbows, and some red balloons. The toy at the bottom of this box should be a beautiful bag of mushrooms. All I'm saying is school would be a lot more fun if you thought your school bus drove ON a rainbow every morning. Uncle Toucan Sam was obviously inspired by Sean Penn after playing the role of David Kleinfeld in Carlito's Way. He has no wife, children, or siblings yet he has three children that call him uncle. I'm sorry, I just find that fishy. Toucan Sam's catch phrase was "follow your nose" and coincidentally I tend to hear that a lot on BET's American Gangster. I wonder what Toucan Sam's episode title would be. The Trix Rabbit is actually the most cunning mascot of them all. This humanized rabbit has a college degree in reverse psychology. Have you ever met anyone who has said his or her favorite cereal was Trix? Do you even know what's in a Trix cereal box? When was the last time a grocery store was sold out of Trix? I'll wait while you ponder that. Children of America, you've been dooped. Trix are for kids? HA...you all have been "Tricked" it seems.

Look, all I'm saying is that these sugar saturated cereals are hardly good for anyone, especially children at 7am. Yet, they are sold to us by these suspect cartoon characters. Oh sure there are the straight arrows, Cornflakes' Cornelius the Rooster and Frosted Flakes' Tony the Tiger. However, no one cares or even eats that healthy crap anymore. It's all about how many kids Count Chocula and Captain Crunch can lure away from the playground swings in the new millennium. Come to think about it, I'm pretty sure Count Chocula is what Michael Jackson would resemble if he were animated.

Hip-Hop in 2009...

Season 3 bitches! New music...new topics...new set up. I'm back and I'm feeling this red look, I must say. Plus, I'm going back to the good ole days when Bad Boy was on top. I'm now trying to make my readers involuntarily Harlem Shake whenever reading one of my posts. So what is in store for the new year? We've got a black First Lady, a Justice League movie is in the works, and we are still debating on whether or not college football needs to replace the BCS with a playoff bracket. I've spent the past winter collecting dvds and trying to become the undisputed king of all iTunes. I have purchased a new digital camera, so I shouldn't have to say it but I will: bitches beware. I've actually been plotting an elaborate scheme involving kidnapping Dakota Fanning with a potato sack. That doesn't sound too elaborate, but I am actually a wizard when it comes to...potato sacks. Ah, and sudoku is the devil. For now though, I'm trying to make out what is in store for Hip-Hop in this new year...

This last year was a tragedy for Hip-Hop. I don't even know if most of the music that was created this last year could even be considered actual Hip-Hop. My last twelve months were dedicated to building an unyielding hatred for Soulja Boi and his inability to spell, read, or speak proper English. Not to mention, his Superman song inspired thousands of unsupervised 14 year old children to dance for their little brother's camera phone as he "cranks" a new dance of his own. Consequently, Soulja Boi is the sole purpose of millions of people wasting countless hours of their lives watching YouTube. Oh how I HATE you Soulja Boi. <------ And does anyone see that shit?? How the fuck hard is it to spell SOLDIER BOY. If I hear another grown ass man scream "YAH, BITCH!! YAH!!" I'm digging out Christmas tree ornaments and stabbing him in his forehead with the hooks. Why do people love Soulja Boi Tell 'Em so much? Matter of fact, what is Soulja Boi telling me, exactly? I can hardly make out what he's saying, and if I could, it would probably just give me the urge to slap the platinum out of his mouth. I would join Ice-T's army any day. Actually, I wouldn't...Ice-T, you can get slapped, too. Soulja Boy, someone told me that in a magazine, you once said you had a 4.0 GPA in high school but didn't want to go to college because "I wanted to become successful like Kanye West." I immediately took the shoelace out of my left shoe and choked him until he fell asleep. I refuse to believe such lies. You sir, wouldn't get a 4.0 if you were tested on material from one of your own albums.

And even if that statement was true - of all people, you chose Kanye? No Biggie? No Hova? Not Snoop, or even Luda? You pick Kanye West? Am I the only person who heard this 808's & Heartbreak album? Oh, and I use the term "album" loosely, because 11 tracks is not an album; that's an extended demo tape. Do you understand that this greasy nigga just released an R&B album without even having the ability to actually sing? Yes, R&B. Look, singing in autotune for 2 minutes and letting the beat ride for another 4 minutes is not Hip-Hop, Mr. West. Moreover, thank you T-Pain for unleashing autotune on the world. It's gone too far. Thr33 Ringz sounded like three songs on repeat (thus the essence of the album's title). Even T-Pain's videos look the same: black crusty nigga popping and locking in front of colorful computer enhanced backgrounds. AND he had the audacity to try and rap with DJ Khaled co-signing in the background. I won't even get started on you DJ Khaled (whom I simply refer to as Aladdin Hussein). You, sir, have sickened me with all these songs you claim are yours, yet you only ad-lib in the background. I only wish I could play 3 notes on a flute, and oompa loompas appear and take you away while singing a clever song...in autotune...

I happened to come across a survey in my Facebook mini feed the other day that said "Who are the 5 greatest rappers of all time". Well, that's an easy answer for me as I always swiftly answer, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan...and Dylan." Dylan is actually in a tie with himself for the fifth seed. But I was shocked when I saw names like The Clipse, Young Chris, and Fabolous mentioned (...no comment). I was infuriated to see Lil' Wayne's name appear on people's lists multiple times. This nigga Lil' Wayne is getting on my last nerve. All these tracks are just unnecessary I think. You don't get an award for most songs released in a year. His latest songs just have him mumbling random bull shit using autotune now. I could have sworn I heard this little nigga say he liked eating purple skittles and McGriddles while watching Snoop Doggy Televizzle on Tuesday afternoons. Lollipop Remix...second verse...look that shit up. This man makes so many songs that he could fill an entire iPod Nano to its capacity. I want to punch you in the spine Lil' Wayne. And I saw that shit with you kissing Bird Man. Nigga you gay. As gay as a bathing ape...

If Hip-Hop isn't dead, then it definitely looks like Christopher Reeve right about now. The only way for it to be revitalized is if more artists like Jeezy, Common, Luda, Talib Kweli, etc. make more contributions. I'll tell you what isn't helping (and never has helped) the game: Tupac albums featuring artists he has never met. No, it's not hot hearing a Tupac track featuring Bow Wow! Perhaps someone needs to rough up Eminem's daughter so he can get back to his violent lyrical rampages that made my middle school years so great. Perhaps, we need another relevant Hip Hop empire. Was it so long ago when Bad Boy dominated the mid 90s? Does anyone remember Rocafella owning the early 2000's? Jay-Z, Freeway, Young Gunz, and Kanye West: all Rocafella and all went platinum. I talk a lot of shit, but it's normal for the game to go through some slumps from time to time (i.e. the Reggaeton era) and I'm not too worried. So, please excuse me as I leave to go and do my part. I, apparently, need to contact Beanie Sigel to rectify this Soulja Boi situation...

The World's Greatest Evil...

America, we are living in tumultuous times. The presidential election of November 2008 is hastily approaching. The fate of the free world is up in the air like a basketball at tip off time. However, the two hands reaching for this ball are the brown hands of a man who will without a doubt catch the “itis” while delivering his State of the Union address because he ate too much poultry in the greenroom and the delicate and well manicured hands of an Alaskan woman (some would call her an Eskimo…dammit) because McCain died of shock when someone told him there was such a thing known as sexual harassment in the workplace. Al Gore has me believing that it’s pointless to even think about having children (or paying off college loans for that matter) because anything below the Mason Dixon line will inevitably become the new millennium’s Atlantis due to global warming. Hurricane Katrina came to America and achieved what she wanted and, like a European immigrant in 1913, sent home for her cousins and they are now here terrorizing our southern states yet again. Diddy has not one, but TWO (2) television shows airing simultaneously on two different channels. In the name of Zeus’ beard, can someone tell me what kind of world we live in now?!?! With all of these calamities pushing the walls in around us faster and faster, you would think that I have something to speak out on. Never fear, I have found the root of all this evil. The father of all iniquity resides in Florida, my children. Nothing on this planet represents immorality and sheer wickedness to the extent that I witnessed when I took a trip to Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida. This motha fucka Mickey Mouse is without a doubt Mr. Sinister himself in a god damned tuxedo jacket with tails. Go get a bottled cranberry juice and sit on the floor Indian style in front of this computer screen and pay close FUCKING attention, I have a story to tell…

First of all, everything you used to believe about Mickey Mouse is a bold faced lie. Anything regarding this icon as a giant, jolly, and cordial rodent in a well knotted bow tie is an absolute lie. Remember back to your childhood when you would go to Disney and take pictures next to Mickey Mouse and he towered over you as you wore your own Mickey ears and sipped a Capri Sun from a straw poked through the missing tooth gap in your mouth. Oh yes, as a child all you probably committed to memory was actually taking that picture. No one ever recollects standing in a line so ridiculously long you would think there was endless gold at its end. But is there gold at the end? No. It’s just a polyester mouse with no vocal cords who thinks it’s perfectly alright to play peek-a-boo with every child that comes up to him. Why in Apollo’s name do we stand in these outlandishly long lines just to shake hands with college students (or Cubans) dressed up as life sized cartoon characters? And, what about these people that actually get paid to pantomime from nine to five? They couldn’t hire me to play Mickey Mouse for a day. I would jump into pictures I wasn’t even supposed to be near. You think you’re taking a picture hugged up with Goofy and I’m in the background throwing up the Westside sign, bitch! All you want is picture with Winnie the Pooh (by the way, what the shit is a “Pooh” and why does he think it’s completely acceptable to wear a red child’s small t-shirt to cover his nipples but his belly, balls, and toes can hang all out…just wondering) and in the background you see me luring 3 children away with candy. What?!?! All I’m trying to say is that I can’t possibly understand what keeps these “actors” motivated to stay in character all day and not want to go have some mischievous fun of their own. It is 1000 degrees in those costumes and you’re telling me you want to wave and hug non-English speaking tourist all day. I refuse to believe it.

It doesn’t end there either. You would think Mickey is larger than life. I mean come on; he has theme parks, television channels, movie studios, cartoons, video games, toys, story books and magazines all created from his image. This man is a brand name (the original Blue Magic) that people have built their careers. I walked up to Mickey for the first time last week and thought I was standing next to Midget Mac in god damn Stewart Little costume. Don’t let the pictures fool you people; Mickey Mouse is 4’11” and that’s with his little gold boots. All my life I thought Mickey Mouse was 7’30” and come to find out he can’t even get on half the rides in his own theme park. I wish I was Mickey Mouse and you tell me I can’t get on Space Mountain. I would rip off one my ears and fling it at the bridge of your nose like a black Frisbee. To be honest though, I think Mickey is actually used to violent behavior like that. Here is an assignment: take a brief break from this passage and YouTube some old Steamboat Willie clips of Mickey back in the old days. He is a documented animal abuser and racist. I lie to you not; I caught a lot of the different characters of Disney engaging in sketchy behavior all weekend, too. First off, Mickey treats Goofy AND Pluto like shit. Mickey kicks Pluto whenever he sees him. I witnessed Mickey sitting in a chair and he noticed Pluto walking by holding a woman’s hand. Mickey abruptly stopped what he was doing, tip toed up to Pluto’s left (because those helmets don’t have good peripheral vision), and super kicked him in the head like Shawn Michaels. Mickey then Diddy danced all the way back to his seat and continued taking pictures and no one said or did anything! I saw Cinderella smoking weed behind a dumpster. Huey, Duey, and Luey were cuffed and walked through the park to the Disney Detention Center because they were caught shoplifting. The guy who wears the Eore costume from Winnie the Pooh is just as depressed as the character he plays. It started to rain and while all the other characters (or “cast members” as they are called down there) were running to find cover, he just sat there trying to slit his wrists with a pen cap. It’s tragic how they act when they think no one is looking.

Characters aside, the actual Disney campus is outrageous. It’s like its own country with its own money and law enforcement. I promise you this: if you heard terrible stories about the Los Angeles or New York Police Department, it probably pales in comparison to the Disneyworld Police Department. These guys are the most disgruntled and anal law enforcement brigade of all time. I blame it on those uniforms they have to wear. They look like pilots and their badges are the shape of Mickey’s head. What sick bastard thought it would be cool to mold a law enforcement badge into the shape of a harmless cartoon character’s head? So with that, they feel that they must be the most fearsome toddler task force of all time. They pepper spray areas of the park when they feel there’s too many children crying. If you lose track of your child and they find little wandering Timmy, they actually incarcerate the child, not the parent. True story: they shut the wading pool (the pool that is only 2 feet deep) down at my resort for an hour because there was too much splashing and noise. They then pushed the life guard on duty around their circle of Disney Police like bullies because they felt she was weak at her post. Oh, and don’t call these cops the Goof Troop. They hate that…and they chase you until they catch you. And no, you cannot outrun them. Their rage turns them all into Jamaican sprinters.

Finally, Mickey Mouse and the Monopoly Man must have been golf buddies because Disneyworld has the most thorough understanding of complete monopoly ever. You can’t eat, drink, or travel anywhere around Disney unless you pay Mickey Mouse. Furthermore, Mickey knows this and he sets the most offensive prices for everything. I spent $200 at a bar on 3 Long Islands and 4 draft beers. If I wasn’t so drunk when I cashed out, I would have caused a scene when the register did the Mickey laugh as my receipt printed. Food is unreasonably expensive and they only serve it 4 times a day, so you have to eat it. $11 for a turkey and cheese sandwich (not including a beverage) and it isn’t even filling. The restaurants all start their meals with $11-17 appetizers. The shuttles refuse to take you anywhere that isn’t a Disney theme park or Disney resort. I was walking to McDonalds for a late night snack and a shuttle pulled up in front of me. Chip and Dale jumped out threw a potato sack over my head and I woke up tucked in my bed in footed pajamas and Hannah Montana was on the TV. Mickey must rake in 20 million a day on food, liquor, and transportation alone.

You know where the ultimate evil comes into play though? Yes, Disney captures children’s imaginations and keeps them wanting to come back for more. They want their parents to buy Mickey ears, get their face painted, dine in the magic castle, experience the Pirates of the Caribbean and ride the Buzz Lightyear rides in Tomorrowland. That stuff is colorful and loud and leaves children hypnotized. Meanwhile parents are stuck enduring all the childish stuff just so that their kids don’t grow up feeling cheated out of a childhood milestone. However, wait until the end of the night. It's then the grown man’s turn to get mesmerized by bright lights and loud sounds. Every night at 8pm the Disney parade rolls through the Magic Kingdom. Not only were the kids wide mouthed and captivated by these elaborate floats made to resemble a scene from every single Disney movie, but I too, was awestruck by what was actually happening on these floats. When the villain float came passed, I swear the witch from Snow White and I caught eyes and she gave me the finger before she disappeared into smoke. Captain Hook jumped off the float and ran at some children who were booing him. Like ran at them full speed. Cinderella and the Prince were riding in the pumpkin coach and he was definitely feeling her breast as they waved to onlookers. Mickey walked out with the Nation of Islam surrounding him. It was ridiculous. Who does this Mickey Mouse think he is? All I could do was shake my head as the children and parents followed the parade all around the park like zombies in the night. Anyway, I won’t be attending any other Disney events. I returned home broke but I did buy a pair of those four fingered Mickey gloves. I only did that so that when I am in a bar and start raising the roof, I can attract under-aged men and women to slap before I report them to the bouncers. Bouncers who also have pending applications with the DWPD...

If You Were Born In or After 1992, You're a Pussy...

You know, I don’t normally like to generalize. Personally, I prefer to single people out on their faults rather than create a tragic norm out of a couple rotten apples. Yet, there are always outliers. For example, I don’t hate Asians. In fact, I thoroughly enjoy General Tso’s chicken and Dragonball-Z reruns. However, that Asian chick that rolls her books around campus in LUGGAGE makes me sick and has successfully captured my hatred. Why does she feel the need to scurry around campus like a squirrel while wheeling every book she needs for the semester? STOP ROLLING THAT BAG OVER MY FEET! I swear if I didn’t know that she was rolling around books (because that‘s what Asians do other than win America's Best Dance Crew), I would think that the bag was full of Pokemon balls. I hate her. You hate her. I vote, for the betterment of campus life everywhere, she be destroyed. I don’t particularly care for clowns, either. I am actually the chief manufacturer of Ronald McDonald Kidnapping Kits. However, in light of the Dark Knight…I may want to grow up to be the Joker now. Yes children, I would like to make a living in the future by wearing face paint and purple pinstriped pants. Don’t judge me. Does anyone realize that this grown man was able to make other grown men wear masks of HIS face while they robbed a bank? If you can’t understand my amazement, I have a task for you. Go to your group project meeting and say, “alright everyone, so for tomorrow I think we should all wear (insert your name here) masks while we give our presentation.” I guarantee the Asian chick in the group transforms into a Pokemon and either zaps you with lightning or stuffs you into her luggage. Either situation ends with you never being seen again.

Anyway, as you can see, sometimes I do formulate my opinions of people based on the demographic they belong. This leads me to my point of the day: I hate today’s youth. If you were born in 1992, today you are 16; thus you are a pussy. So America, when you see Emu boy riding a skateboard down the sidewalk, politely stop him and ask him what year was he born. If he says anything after or including 1992, you have my permission to feed him a knuckle sandwich and throw his skateboard into oncoming traffic. I came to this conclusion the other day after watching a lot of television and realizing the sorry state that our country is now submerged. These kids today are groomed to be vaginas with arms and feet. Can someone explain to me why the Nintendo Wii has become the equivalent to…OUTDOORS? I own a Wii. Do you know why? Because as a child, when mother wasn’t home I wasn’t allowed to go outside. So during the 3 hours between getting home from school and when my mother came home from work, I sat in the house and played Mario. NO…not Mario Paint or Mario Sunshine or Mario Tennis. I played real Super Mario Bros for Nintendo. Now as an adult, the Wii allows me to appreciate how Mario has evolved from a 2D plumber jumping over barrels on Donkey Kong into Mario Galaxy on Nintendo Wii. So yes I own a Wii, but I don’t substitute going outside and playing pick up basketball for Dancing With the Stars with Wii nunchucks. When I was younger, I rode my bike, climbed trees, etc. Today, video game companies are scrambling to invent interactive pedals so you can go play Wii Tour de France. Fuck you Wii. If I ever see a Wii Tag or Wii Manhunt (or ultimately worse: Wii Catch the Girl Freak the Girl) I will dress up like Luigi and pour gallons of water on the Nintendo building in an attempt to short out its every single circuit. Yes, I will dress up like Luigi, and all you young 92ers will read about this on your Wii News and say to yourselves, “that looks like a green Mario costume.” Son of a bitch…

Can someone please explain to me when it became cool to pretend you are in a Rock Band instead of actually learning how to play the guitar? There is no reason why kids in the school marching band are STILL considered geeks while the “cool kids” can now sit in the basement and battle each other on Guitar Hero. I can solve this enigma. I’m going to infiltrate one of these basements where children surround themselves with Doritos and root beer and spend hours trying to “play” Walk This Way by hitting red, blue, green, and yellow buttons on a controller (or better yet, a controller that looks like and is the actual size of real guitar). I plan to pepper spray the entire room and then bludgeon these preteens to death with these stupid guitars. Then I’ll pour some root beer out for our dead homies. And since when did beating this game indeed constitute you a guitar "hero"? I don’t care if you can play Welcome to the Jungle on level 8…you will never sleep with a girl.

Ah, and my request for the day: STOP DANCING. Soulja Boi, I have so many words for you but I won’t waste any in this post. I got something for you later. Just understand when I do the Marco Polo, a gun is involved. However, all you little shits who thought it would be cool to crank that batman, spiderman, iron man, aqua man, blank man, sandman, and whatever else ends in “man” are indeed true examples of wasted semen. Instead of going to a party and actually dancing with a girl, apparently you and your core group of friends found it genius to create and record “Crank Dat Finding Nemo” in an empty  Target parking lot and post it on youtube last Friday evening. I have a new dance too and it’s call “Crank Dat Get Kicked In the Chest and Into a Bottomless Pit” and it’s really easy. I’ll be more than happy to travel to middle schools around the nation and conduct afternoon assemblies showing how it’s done. Ladies (and I use that term loosely), you aren’t off the hook either. Listen, it’s little bitches like Patti Mayo (youtube her NOW before continuing reading any further...NOW ASSHOLE) that make it possible to have shows like To Catch a Predator on the air. The female 92er doesn’t baby-sit the neighbors’ kids on a Friday or Saturday night. No, no, no, she’s in her dad’s home office dancing to Rihanna in booty shorts and a bra for her web cam for all of the nation’s perverts to view (for free). You know bitches born in 84 actually get paid for this same shit (thus making it OK). So not only do you get comments from males posted under your video saying, “slut”, “whore”, “shake it baby“, and “that bitch got rabies”, but from females too saying, “that aint how you wind it up…broke bitch.”

I just don’t get it anymore. You know Sesame Street doesn’t even come on anymore. If it does, my Comcast Cable tells me that number doesn't exist. How do you grow up without Sesame Street though? I just don’t understand. Learning numbers by counting bats with The Count in the morning has been sadly replaced with adding up all the bitches from all the seasons of Flavor of Love in the evenings. Isn’t that a bitch? You bastards born in 92 ACTUALLY think Transformers was just a creative movie. Keenan and Kel have been replaced with...Drake and Josh? You know what was the shit? E.T. A child told me yesterday that Wall-E is the new E.T. I poisoned his lunchable. Those of you born in 92 or after, you are indeed pussies. Your Razor scooters and colorful trendy helmets that make wearing helmets cool sicken me. I hate you as much as I hate the sandwiches your mother cut into triangles for your lunch. You are all fat and sick because you lock yourselves in your bedrooms sipping Capri Suns and eating Cheez-Its as you deprive yourselves of fresh air and sunlight because you found a new friend to talk to on X-Box360 as you play Halo. You all truly think Lil Wayne is the best rapper of all time because 2pac and Biggie have become just as mythical as Hercules and Leprechauns to you. And finally, what the hell is Go-Gurt? Children…does anyone realize that someone invented and promoted yogurt in a motha fucking tube and these sorry bastards of the 90s now love this shit like crack in the 80s? I’m moving to Canada…