Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Oliver Stone Eat Your Heart Out

The sly character from Oliver’s dubiously historical film JFK now resides in my kitchen. Thanks to Kevin Sage’s benevolent act of charity, I now have a Magic Bullet.

Not the kind that murdered. The kind that makes tasty treats as seen on TV.

That’s right, I’m the owner of a kitchen device the claims to do “any job in 10 seconds or less.” I’m only going to assume that there are certain conditions on that claim. It can’t possibly do any job in 10 seconds or less. I know that. I’m not completely stupid. After all, it hasn’t even been able to put itself away yet.

But I can’t wait to give it a real spin. I used it last night in a somewhat disappointing baptism into the futile world of home-juicing.

(a quick note: originally I was going to use the term “self-juicing,” meaning that you “do-it-yourself.” Luckily, I thought better of it. I realized that my more…youthful-spirited…readers may twist it into something dirty. I’m only sharing it with you now because I can’t get that “term” out of my head. And the visuals of “self-juicing” with the help of powerful, spinning cutting blades is very unsettling. Besides, they’re two very different worlds. I figured that out long ago…sans Magic Bullet.)

Yes the Magic Bullet also juices. Well, it more creams. Mashes? Smushes? I was amazed at how little juice came from three apples. About a cup. Worthless. I don’t think that I’ll be juicing much in the future. Besides, there’s a much easier way to get juice from an apple. Buy it at the store.

So, no more juicing for me. It’s frustrating. It takes too long. It’s too much work. And it’s very messy.

Now, I’ve done it haven’t I? You’re all using the term “juicing” as a euphemism, aren’t you? Well quit it. It’s not. Many people like to juice. It’s a way of life to some. They wake up in the morning and juice. They juice before they go to bed. It helps them sleep and it’s a very healthy way to start the day. Hell, I’ll bet that some people even juice at work. And if they don’t, I’ll bet they’re thinking about juicing.

Oh, stop it.

But the Magic Bullet is a fine product. They have the best infomercial. If you live in LA you can catch it on Saturday mornings. That’s where I’ve seen it. In fact, I’ve even watched it a couple times. You know, when Fillmore is a re-run.

The MB infomercial has a storyline. A group of people are filing into a couple’s kitchen after what looks to have been one hell of a wild night. They’re all tired and hung over. And they have characters. One lady is a frumpy housefrau with a long granny ash hanging from her fake cigarette. There’s another guy who is a finicky eater – which is strange because he’s the heaviest guest at the table. There are some others, all very diverse.

So diverse in fact that it make you wonder what the hell the hosts were thinking when they made the invite list. Why would they invite all these weird people to their home for a weekend of drunken debauchery?

Well, it doesn’t take long before the hosts begin to show their true colors.

It’s a scam! They’re just selling kitchen appliances! They’re like those Amway cultists. Taking advantage of their friends to make a buck.

Of course, the commercial doesn’t say all this, and the guests – somehow – never seem to catch on, but we all know the truth.

But how could the guests not see it? Do they find nothing strange about the fact that their hosts have six Magic Bullets sitting on the counter right in front of them? Don’t they thinks it’s just a little odd that at breakfast, their hosts keep sharing recipes with them that can only be made in the Magic Bullet? I mean, it goes beyond just being happy with an appliance. You get the idea from this host couple that after the sucker guests finally stumble home with appliances under their arms, they’re going to have a group “self-juicing” session with the old MB. And then they’re going to sacrifice some kind of barnyard animal to it.

They love their Magic Bullet.

And why not, really?! I love the Magic Bullet too. That’s right, I’m a “Bullet Buddy.” I’m proud of it.

Thank you Kevin for having the guts to order something that I would be far to embarrassed to order myself. Thank you MB people for having a buy-one-get-one-free deal. And thank you Kevin again for first thinking of Tanya and I when you were trying to think of people who would want something that most people would laugh at.

I’m not laughing, Kevin. The MB rocks.

I need to get my hands on a live chicken or a small pig. Definitely living though. The MB’s very specific about the offerings.

Fun Fact: Well, it ain’t been smooth sailing for little Ashlee Simpson, has it? She just got booed at the Orange Bowl. Sure, she sucked, but did she really deserve to get booed? I mean, Kelly Clarkson was there too, and if you’ve ever heard Kelly sing live, you know that she got off easy in the booing department.

Yeah, Ashlee deserved it! She sucked!

But really, Ashlee’s got a real problem. This is what happens when you don’t pay your dues. You know it’s bad when Ashlee Simpson makes Kelly Clarkson look like she “earned it.”

How does it feel Ashlee? To be booed by the people who introduced the world to the “Sound Machine?”

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