Absolutely made my day.

I don't know who Scott Gairdner is, but he's become one of my heroes with this video.

I'm disapointed in you, General Mills.

Dear Ms. O----:

Thank you for contacting General Mills. We appreciate your comments regarding our advertising for Cocoa Puffs cereal. Your opinion is important to us, and will be shared with our marketing and advertising staff.

We hope you continue to enjoy our products.

Sincerely,

Emily Quintaine

Consumer Services





...they ignored me. I'm seriously debating writing another letter telling them that I will find warm comfort in the fact that Kellogg's takes me seriously when I write them emails and that I will be heard. This isn't over, Emily. Not by a long shot.

Cereal Complaints Part Two: Toni Goes West

I have encountered a new issue with a children's cereal. I have already written an email today and I think I made my arguement pretty clear. I'll include some photos for my readers throughout the email so they know what I'm referring to. I'm looking foward to a response from General Mills soon.



Hello, I'm a nineteen year old consumer of Cocoa Puffs and let me be the first one to say that I absolutely love the chocolatey deliciousness of your product. I have no problems with the actual corn puffs themselves. My problem lies within the current advertising of Cocoa Puffs.






For the past several years your mascot, Sunny the Cuckoo Bird, seems to have faced serious addiction issues to your product. Now he seems simply out of control. On this box of Cocoa Puffs I currently have in my possession, Sonny has bulged out eyes and constantly appears to be shaking.









He needs to escape Munchy, Crunchy, and Chocolatey and they are personified into three cocoa puffs on the back of the box. They might as well be black tar heroin to this poor bird because his only means of escape are taking an elevator to the top floor. But where is he to go from there if they follow? Fellow consumers agree: Sonny appears as if he might commit suicide on that top floor.






I only mean well by informing you of this interpretation of Sonny. It has been agreed in my group of friends (and their sponsors) that Sonny needs help. I can only imagine how many children are getting the wrong message as they see Sonny fight away Munchy, Crunchy, and Chocolately. It should also be noted that on the television advertisements, Sonny seems to give in every time to his addiction. What a role model.


Thank you for your time and consideration of my comments. I can only hope that Sonny will overcome his never-ending chocolately pain in the near future.

Redd Foxx would approve.

What I should be thinking about:





No, not becoming a Vassar girl. The emphasis is on the textbooks and studying.



What I am thinking about:



Sure, it may taste and smell like the tremendous blast of a thousand farts, but by the time you've reached the bottom of the bottle you can't even feel your tongue! and isn't that the purest joy of them all?

Dental Chairs and Doom: An Adventure

As many of you already know, I have spent the past week in a vicodin-blessed euphoric state thanks to getting my four wisdom teeth pulled. Everything healed nicely and I could tell that the stitches in my mouth were no longer necessary. Today I thought that I would be returning to the same surgeon who stitched me up. But I did not.

I'm not really one to get too squeamish about dental offices. My mother has been a dental office manager all over the tri-state area since I was a wee one, so I'm quite used to the sights and sounds. Today was the first day to put me at such unease that I secretly took photos while waiting for my dentist to finally come in and remove the stitches.



At first it wasn't so bad. I got this neat little Dr. Seuss bib that entertained me for about four minutes.





Once I got bored of staring at the same cloth, I began to take notice to other things around the office. First thing I did not like - this picture on the wall.





Usually these kinds of posters do not bother me. The problem with this one is that it does not show any nice teeth. Look for some, I dare ya. All those mouths are fucked up! That does not put me in a very good mood. I would like to see some positive reinforcement in a dental office.

I stare at the gory poster for a few minutes and try to get my mind elsewhere. I notice these furry stuffed animals in the corner.





A ghetto Barney and something else green behind it. Okay, not so bad.

Wait.

What is that green thing?

I actually got up to take a better look.







My reaction:



I sat like that for twenty minutes staring at that fucking thing. What cruel horrible place is this?

I've seen it before...





Yes. I was in the hidden dental office stage of Doom. But I didn't have the BFG. All I had was a Dr. Seuss bib.

I have no ending for this, so I take a small bow. Thanks, Carlin.







(Before anyone starts wondering about the green stuffed animal, I'll be 100 percent honest at the end here. It was just a hilarious angle. the stuffed animal is actually a really cute alligator with fake teeth in it to teach kids how to brush. What you're looking at is the mouth and its black nostrils. The mouth potrudes out and what you cant see are the plush eyes, so it looks like this horrid, disfigured creature. Honestly, when I first saw it, I almost crapped my pants and that's when I took the picture. When I went in to further look at it, I saw it was just really fine angling. So, hope I gave ya a laugh and a freak out anyway hehe)

A Moment of Sega Violence.

Nothing says mid 90's like a rediculously violent video game.

Here are maybe half of the death scenes in the game Brain Dead 13. Gotta love that it was rated K-A.

Who Needs Chuck Norris? WWRLD?

Whenever I've had a bad day, such as today, and I'm feelin a little down and out, I like to ask myself WWRLD?







What Would Robert Loggia Do?



Maybe he'd tell you to go fuck yourself.

Maybe he'd tell you he wants to give you a promotion in toy development.

Maybe he'd hold onto those stolen TVs for you and take the jail time (unintentionally.)

Maybe he'd get you involved in his intricate web of drug deals.

Maybe he'd sell you a waterbed and make you take that bitch for a test ride.

Or maybe he'd tell you that your mother is right and you should drink your minute maid.



Whatever he tells you, you better fuckin listen. Cuz he's Robert Loggia.



That's what cheers me up.

Webkinz...

I have a Webkinz Koala named Pappy.

He wears stonewash jeans and sunglasses. No shirt.

He has an air hockey table and a TV. That's it.

All he needs now is a Grateful Dead poster, some weed, and a fridge full of beer...can I buy that for a webkinz?

The Epic Battle Finally Ends...

For about a week now, there has been a showdown between me and a spider in the bathroom. Let me explain:

Last Monday, I noticed a big daddy long legs in the corner of the bathroom by the door. I ignored it, hoping it would go away. It did not.

By Wednesday, it was in a different corner of the bathroom, not one that could block my getaway when I attempted to kill it. So, I sprayed it with a water bottle (look, I can't get close enough to hit it with a book or something. i don't have the balls for that kinda thing.) and it jumped around and shit, but I thought it would die. I went to bed that night happily, knowing that the spider was no longer a menace to my bathroom.

Thursday it disappeared. Friday it disappeared. But Saturday it was in the corner by the door again. First off - it survived a harsh misting. Secondly - where did it go for two days?! Did it go on a vacation?! Did it say "Weeellll, I think I need to get away from this place, it's stressing me out. maybe I'll go check out the Carribean Islands, that'd be a nice get away for awhile!" Then it came back for the daily grind. in my bathroom.

It was there yesterday, just mocking me in the corner still, threatening to fall onto my head as soon as I pass under the door every time. But last night it disappeared. I started to get very angry.

Tonight, as I brushed my teeth a few minutes ago, I noticed it was not in the corner still. Maybe it went to go check out Orlando, Florida this time around. Then I saw it fall from the towel next to me. I jumped back and stared at it angrily for a few minutes. What the fuck? Did it honestly just jump out and try to scare me? Like "hah, bitch! that's for misting me some days back. Laater..." and it started to head back up to the corner of the bathroom.

Well tonight was the night. I grabbed the spray bottle and shot that fucker down off the wall and sprayed him with water until he was motionless. No, I still didnt have the courage to just squash him with something. This was like one of those dramatic shooting scenes from an action movie, only with a bottle shooting a fine mist.

As I walked away, the fucker started moving again. this is a fucking terminator spider. I threw a towel on him and stomped on it. I had enough.

Now the towel is still laying on the floor in the bathroom. I did not pick it up. I'll let someone else deal with the corpse. Now, if there is nothing under there, then I swear I'm going to throw a molotov cocktail in that bathroom. Or completely re-enact 300.

Spider: This is madness!

Toni: Madness? THIS IS MY RESIDENCE!!! *flick the spider across the room*

Whatcha makin, mom? Aww, botulism again?!

Today, I heard from the news that Castleberry is recalling over 90 products due to hospitalizations and the occurance of botulism.







We shop for only the finest in our house.

Since I already have it in my presence, I'm wondering of all the wonderous things I could do with this lil can of colon paralysis...

My best idea so far has been that I could throw an "I apologize and lets be friends!!" party for all the people I dislike and serve hot dogs and chili....