Category Archives: Food

St. Patrick’s Greetings From the Most Irish Man on Earth… Shaquille ‘O Neal

By Andrew Blumetti

Top o’ the morning afternoon to ya! 

When your last name could pass for an extra on The Sopranos, this day really tears you up.

Surely, I’ll be the first to admit- green bagels can’t be beat, my Flogging Molly vinyl is spinning like Rob Ford after a weekend blowout, and I’ve already tripled my daily salt intake with corned beef, but let’s call a spade a spade- with a last name that rhymes with spaghetti, “Irish” I could say I’m authentic, but I’m just an ‘o-poster today.

So, instead of hearing jolly tidings of St. Patrick’s joy from me, I’m gonna pass the baton to a man who really knows his way around a pint of Guinness.  Let’s get goofy green with Mr. Ireland himself…  Shaquille O’ Neal.

If you wear a Shaq “Big Shamrock” t-shirt in a bar on March 17, they actually charge you MORE for your beer.

 

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To be sure Nick Nolte doesn’t fall off the wagon into a frosty barrel of green beer, O’ Neal will be spending the weekend with him.  Hours will be spent smacking Nolte with Shaq’s elephant-paw when he gets out of line.

 

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In 1996, Shaq took his movie career even further, playing a magic Irish genie in a bottle.  He’ll grant ye three wishes, but unfortunately, “wishing I hadn’t sat down to watch Kazaam” isn’t one of them.

 

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Before his time playing American basketball, Mr. O’ Neal spent many a year creating beloved tunes of Beautiful Days and Bloody Sundays with his Irish rock brethren, U2.

 

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Here’s Shaq’s time spent with his leprechaun girlfriend.  

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Fun Fact:  If you were to fill Shaq’s massive size-23 shoe with Lucky Charms, it’d require a whole cow and a half to provide the milk. 

 

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Say it with me… Shamrock Shaq. 

 

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Q:  What happens when Shaq scores a lot of baskets? 

A:  The score will be DUBLIN!!!

 

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You hear that new Cranberries album?  PFFFFTTTTT

 
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With no basketball to dribble around, no dunks to dunk and no free throws to miss, it’s time to hit the silver screen again.  Pop your corn and get in line now, Leprechaun 7- coming soon. 

 

Pretty soon…

 

Never.

 

 

So Danny Boy Shaquille- a most happy and merry St. Patty’s to you my Celtic friend.  And to all the readers out there in internet land- Irish and non-Irish alike, may your bagpipes be filled with hot air, may all your Murphys be dropkicked, and may your meats be boiled to a fine bland gray. 

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My Favorite Super Bowls (That May or May Not Have Happened)

By Andrew Blumetti

Well, this certainly didn’t happen.

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February.

Talk about getting the most bang for your buck.  They really do pack a lot into a little month, don’t they?

In a mere twenty eight days, we’re graced with a bountiful bevy of winter celebration–  Valentine’s Day, Groundhog Day, President’s Day, Mardi Gras, Black History Month, Spring Training, and the most important of ‘em all (after Spring Training of course), there’s the great American holiday of Super Bowl Sunday, the biggest party since New Year’s Eve, only one month ago.

While granted, February’s short run is not as eventful as the unseen four weeks during 28 Days Later, but it makes me happy to celebrate my birthday during what would normally end up being a freezing, snowy, boring month with a girly-colored wuss birthstone.

Are you kidding me?

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Living in the greater New York area, especially within earshot of Giants Stadium (or MetLife Snoopy Stadium, or whatever it’s called now), the excitement, traffic, and overall buzz has been ramped up to a Spinal Tap-worthy 11 as the Denver Broncos go mono-a-mono with the Seattle Seahawks for all the gusto and glamor of gridiron glory.  It’s truly rocky vs. rainy in the Legal Marijuana Bowl.

Blumes note:  This offer still stands!  Now half price! 

But frankly, it’s Friday, January 31st, this is all old hat by now.

At this point, you’ve been endlessly bombarded with Super Bowl ads, magazine covers, news reports, cocky fans, and nonstop party planning for weeks now.  When Monday morning comes, and you’re more chili than man, you’ll undoubtedly know the Super Bowl had come and left its mark.

But that’s not who this article is for. 

Maybe you’re not a fan of hawks or horses, perhaps Richard Sherman’s post-game interview rubbed you the wrong way, or heck, or maybe you’re one of those people seriously considering a 7th Heaven marathon instead of football this weekend.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Your special teams for the Oakland Raiders!

Of course that doesn’t mean you won’t find yourself enjoying the festivities of Super Bowl Sunday.  Dr. Oz-unfriendly food, offensively expensive commercials (that always feature a baby doing something un-babyish), the sickeningly adorable Puppy Bowl, and trying to get your greased-up fingers to press the remote buttons to change the channel as Bruno Mars performs at halftime- this Sunday is a bombastic event that will please folks of all tastes.  …as evident by this walk down memory lane of some truly classic and heavily unorthodox Super Bowl games of yore.

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1. SUPER BOWL XXXII: BATMAN VS. STORMTROOPERS

Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na SAFETY!

 

As John Madden once called it in a most clever anagram, “Capes vs. Space”, this battle royale pitted The Dark Knight vs. the Imperial Army for 60 minutes of a nerdtastic pigskin extravaganza.  After a first quarter that was heavy on the Big D, Commissioner Gordon’s 45 yard rush into the endzone to close out the first half put Team Gotham up on top.

No guts, no glory, as the ‘Troopers marched their way back in the 4th quarter.

The second half was a superhero explosion of history-making offense as holy touchdowns Batman!—  the Caped Crusader aired it out to the Boy Wonder (who took a time out from cheerleading) in the Gotham endzone.

But, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, as the Stormtroopers, with their armored backs against the wall, bounced back to tie the game as the 2-minute warning approached.  Coach Vader flipped a crap when an ill-timed interception by Alfred the Butler spelled death for the Star Wars crew with the Bats taking home the trophy to Gotham City with a score of 28-21.

Go Team! Arwwwwwaaaaaaaarrrrrrahahahahahhaahhhhaa!!!!


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2.  SUPER BOWL XI:  KISS BOWL  (AKA THE TOILET BOWL)

 

“I wanna hike the ball all night!”


And you thought the Jaguars were bad…

Nothing screams out “gridiron glory” like mime makeup and gaudy platform shoes on men, but that’s why the KISS bowl was so unique.

Walking embarrassment Gene Simmons bit his long cow tongue as he slipped on his own fake blood on no less than three occasions, turning the usually triumphant game into a fumble-filled lowlight reel.  Pain in the ace, Mr. Frehley, shanked four field goal attempts, and starchild, Paul Stanley?   Well, he might as well have been the MVP… for the other team.

Chest hair and touchdowns!  Not just for Joe Namath anymore!

As far as scoring went, it was Detroit Block City.  The spandexed makeuped-ones never did touch the endzone, as KISS went down in defeat to good taste 49-0.

The best worst part was that they weren’t even asked to play the halftime show.  That honor went to The Doobie Brothers.

The great part about being KISS, is you can sell any crap you want at the souvenir stands…

 

The epilogue to this heavy metal tale of the 100 yards KISS never did get back to the Super Bowl, but on the plus side, KISS never did get back to the Super Bowl.

That jersey has the actual number of KISS fans left on Earth.

 

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3.  SUPER BOWL XLV:  ZOMBIE BOWL

Let’s have a hand for the hometeam!

It may have been only three years ago, but who could forget when the undead took down scalpers stadium-wide and invaded the turf during the timeless showdown of the Green Bay Packers and Pittsburgh Steelers?

Turning Aaron Rodgers into an Aaron Rodgers kabob?  Transforming Clay Matthews into an undead Thor?  Sending “Big Ben” Roethlisberger to the sideline to finally get some brains?

It all happened.  I guess.

Indigestion from overindulging in extra hot Buffalo wings rendered Daryl and Michonne practically useless that Sunday.

While the gameplay may have been painfully lumbering and a bit lethargic at times, it was no worse than any given Cleveland Browns game on a random Sunday.

The “Running Dead” tried to bite Tim Tebow on the sidelines, but he was immune to it.


But if Broadway has taught us anything, (and I guess it has…) —  the show must go on, flesh eaters or not.

Time will tell us that the zombies vs. zombies Super Bowl was a tad gory, maybe too confusing at times, and it may have taken five days to finish, but in the end, it was much less traumatizing than the Black Eyed Peas halftime show.

4th Down of the Dead!

 

One would be safe to assume the zombie apocalypse and certain doomsday would put a damper on the game’s festivities, with all the undead cannibalism and spilled guts, but the TV ratings reached an all-time high.  The NFC z-team ended up hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy, rotting limbs and all, bringing it back to frigid Green Bay where decaying slows down like Kirstie Alley’s metabolism.

THE ZOMBIES HAVE BECOME HIDEOUS!

The trophy had to be immediately sent out to be cleaned and shined due to the high volume of blood on it …on a weekly basis.

(On a positive note, in the zombie onslaught, Steelers safety Troy Polamalu was attacked, but escaped by a “hair”.)

Parking was tighter than George Costanza’s wallet…

…but the tailgating was awesome!

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4.  SUPER BOWL XLII:  THE RETURN OF BUD BOWL

 

 

Eli vs. Tom- buds for life!

 

For those too young to remember, the Bud Bowl was an early 90’s stop-motion beer bottle football tour de force that found its home during commercial breaks, squeezed in between multi-million dollar ads for Crystal Pepsi and The Bodyguard soundtrack.  It was a kick-glass all-out brawl between Budweiser and Bud Light.  Even as a long retired campaign, for me, that fateful Sunday in 2008 always be the year that the suds saved football.

Hut, hut… HOPS!!!

 

Phoenix, AZ–  When a thunderous monsoon that would’ve knocked over human brick wall, Howie Long, hit, it kept planes grounded and prevented both the Pats and G-Men from making their way into warm, sunny Arizona, the NFL pooped their britches, panicked and pooped them some more.

“But I wanna go on the PLAAAANNEE!!”

Sadly, cancelling the big game seemed like the only choice left, seeing as how there was no way to get the unfortunate stranded teams into the balmy city in time.  Luckily, the answer was only a bar away…

Long dead since 1997, a time when candy-lovin’ alternarock trio Marcy Playground was brimming with untapped potential, the beer bottles were called off the bench as Bud Bowl sat in as the substitute teacher for the real teams.   It was truly like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, but for drunks.

“My nose is red cause I’m half in the bag!”

The bottles tossed on the teams’ uniforms, and no one in the massive Arizona crowd was the wiser.  Nearly sixty minutes of play time and we all know what happened next-   Ale-I Manning to Beer David Tyree (what a good pick in the draft), the miraculous helmet catch, and a near-perfect season for New England ended in an 18-1 conclusion, as the bottled Big Blue were swimming in confetti in the Big Apple soon after.

No feelings were bottled-up in this game…

Understandably, in Massachusetts, spirits were wicked low, and where did they go?  To a bar of course.  NORM!

“Sammy, I’ve told you for years that beer saves all.”

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5.  SUPER BOWL XLIV: GAME MVP- ABE LINCOLN

Four Scores!  … and seven years ago.

 

For a few brief hours, the “L” in NFL stood for Lincoln.

We all know Abraham Lincoln was a president, emancipator, and a vampire hunter, but do you remember Abe’s big-time appearance in the Super Bowl?

The bearded one was called in to play when Peyton Manning had to leave the game early to film an impromptu Kraft Macaroni and Cheese commercial.   He ran out, flying past the cheerleaders, zooming by the mascots, with the glisten of anger in his eyes, sweat on his brow, and a chin beard so mighty, the heavens above stopped to gaze in majestic awe.

The stovetop hat was thrown down, the shoulder pads were thrust on, and that pigskin flew like you wouldn’t believe.  It was going perfect, until… clumsy ox Drew Brees went down with a pulled hamstring on the slippery turf.  And being the helpful chap he is, ‘ol Honest Abe took the reigns and stood in for him as well, changing uniforms as the Colts defensive squad ran out.

He abolished the slaves, and demolished the Colts…


As the clock struck zero, the Big Easy soon was celebrating with the sounds of jazz and firey-cajun food up the wazoo as Abe Lincoln received an early birthday gift- a declaration as Super Bowl MVP.

It was rumored plentiful posterior-ed socialite Kim Kardashian emancipated her relationship with then-Saints running back, Reggie Bush, that night to lock lips with the sixteenth prez.

And how did A-Linc become so good at football? 

Just how you get to Carnegie Hall…  Practice.

Note:  Sadly, Lincoln’s pro-career was cut short the following pre-season when Ravens linebacker John Wilkes Booth broke Lincoln’s legs.

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Enjoy your Super Bowl weekend!  As usual, please Fed-Ex any uneaten chicken wings to me. 

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Want to Spend Super Bowl Week in New Jersey with Me?? Wish Granted.

By Andrew Blumetti

“Wait, what? I’m performing at the Super Bowl!?”

With less than seven days until the biggest of big games approaches, are you still scraping for last-minute plans like Urkel on prom night?  Or maybe you’re a diehard who bleeds Bronco blue and orange?  Or you drink so much Starbucks, your jittery veins just scream out to support Seattle?  Perhaps the marquee clash of Peyton Manning vs. Russell Wilson means 100% diddly squat to you, and you’re just are looking to punish your belt by eating your weight in Buffalo wings?   OR… just maybe you’re looking to spend Super Bowl week 2014 at the epicenter of the pigskinned party action?

Well, no matter what your interest, wonder no longer friends.  Pack your wooliest mittens and your 90’s Starter jackets, you’re coming to Jersey!

cushion-y!

Unless you’re living under a rock (which granted, may be a very nice rock), for the first time in the nearly fifty years of the big game, we are about to experience Super Bowl XLVIII, the first such game played in a cold weather location, in an open stadium.

That stadium is called MetLife Stadium.

That stadium, MetLife Stadium, is located in East Rutherford, NJ.

That stadium, MetLife Stadium, located in East Rutherford, NJ, just so happens to be less than ten minutes from my house.

Don’t let the gigantic Pepsi tent fool you, that’s the greatest 1.5 billion dollar spaceship-y looking stadium money can buy!

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Which means…

A.  The entire surrounding area has been plastered with these banners for the past month.  Literally, everywhere.  I think there’s one on my back. 

sb

 

B.  Traffic is more trafficy, even by this area’s high traffic standards.  Also, traffic. 

and…

C.  Everyone and their grandmother is making a sweet, sweet buck off this game.  From parties, endless merchandise, themed events, and even renting out spare rooms to out-of-state visitors. 

So, of course, when in Rome…

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Attention football lovers, haters, and the indifferent!  I happily present to you, an offer, make that the offer of a lifetime!  (Well, technically, I guess that’s kinda true)  It’s time for…

BLUMES’S SUPER BOWL WEEK EXTRA-EXTRAVAGANZA!

Yes, you’ve Q-Tipped your ears thoroughly and heard that last statement correctly.  Leave your most-likely warmer climate, trek on over to the East Coast, kick back and stay for a spell in the Garden State, and you can spend this upcoming week with me in high style!

Included in this relatively glorious package is:

  • A one-of-a-kind tour of the local area, including, but not limited to:  the icy parking lot of MetLife Stadium, the numerous ceiling-high supermarket towers of Pepsi cases, and insider hotspots, guided by yours truly.  Included will be such insightful and highly riveting commentary as:

“Hey, that’s the cemetery where Joey Ramone is buried!”

“Oh look, that’s the supermarket parking lot where my car battery died last month!”

“See that place?  Their pizza is sooooooo good!  Well, only if you go on Wednesday nights.”

“Can you wait in the car for a second?  I gotta go to the ATM.”

“That Chinese place used to be a Sam Goody!   That’s where I bought Significant Other by Limp Bizkit!”

durst face

Hey!  Leave me out of this!

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  • Use of my brand new super-soft The Walking Dead throw blanket:
20140126_164332

Practice your best “CARL!!!!” impression while snuggled under this bad boy.

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  • The remainder of however many of these Reese’s Pieces are left that I bought the other night:  (Note: it will probably be none)
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They’re not just for E.T. anymore!

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  •  I will cook you any meal of your choosing from this book:
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Advice: I’m in the mood for burgers, pick them!

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  • Did someone say LOST marathon?!?
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“We have to go back!”

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  • Don’t ask me how, but I managed to get my hands on the best songs of R.E.M.!  And I don’t even know anyone!  Talk about a score!  Prepare to be Michael Stipe-d out…
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Together, we will find out what the frequency is.

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  • Massive!  Snowball!  Fight! 

If you aim correctly, you can hit Snooki in the head!

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So, let’s get down to business…

How much would you pay for this truly unique, and only mildly crappy experience in the chilly Tri-State tundra for this history-making Super Bowl?  $2,000??   $3,000??   Did you say $4,000?!?

Well, if you’re willing to pay that much, how’s $5,000 sound?  I could really use the cash.

I gladly accept cash, check, money orders, or bags of loose change if need be.  Don’t let this opportunity pass you by.  Together, we can put the super in Super Bowl!   Or the owl… either way.

See you then!

“What a deal! …a bad deal!”

(…and act fast!  I just ate four more of those Reese’s Pieces.)

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The Drink Knight: The Saga of Super Grover and Gatorade

By Andrew Blumetti

“I am whatever Sesame needs me to be.”

 

Ringo Starr…

Judy Winslow…

The guys in Aerosmith who aren’t Steven Tyler or Joe Perry…

Sometimes you’re just that guy.

There’s a street, and while the name screams out a magical land of bagel toppings, it’s actually a place where jovial fur-covered monsters teach us our ABC’s, our 123’s, and the importance of sharing a bathtub with just that special rubber ducky.

♪  Can you tell me how to get… how to get to Sesame Street?  ♪

Practice, practice, practice, and stick your hand up a puppet’s keister. 

Too bad there’s only so many colors in the rainbow, because if you reside at 123 in the brownstone-laden land of Sesame Street, and you’re the blue monster who’s not Cookie Monster, then you’re that guy.  And your name is Grover.

“What does ‘nom-nom’ even mean?!?”

I Got the Sesame Street Blues

While loveable and time-tested, being the second most popular blue Muppet means naturally, you’re gonna lash out to be noticed.   So, when everyone and their grandmother is waxing poetic over that gravel-voiced, pre-diabetic Oreo-muncher, you spill some soup, toss out contractions completely from your vocabulary, pop on a cape, and hurl yourself out the window, cause you’re the redheaded blueheaded stepchild, and you’re getting some attention, come cookies or high water.

Enter, SUPER GROVER

He’s loveable, he means well, and he crashes more often than the Obamacare website.   Heck, he even took time out of his busy schedule to protect our Thanksgiving from evil tryptophan and blowout Detroit Lions games.

Soaring like an eagle, Super Grover protects the skies of Gotham… on Turkey Day.

And if by this point something just looks slightly familiar about Super Grover, replenish those lost electrolytes and take a gander at this, gander-takers…

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There’s a storm a-brewin’ and the forecast calls for a 100% chance of lightning bolts.  They’re flashing all over Sesame Street and they’re leaving huge smoking craters all over the football field.  This is a chicken-and-egg situation so gigantic, it’s like Big Bird squated his feathery-yellow self down and popped out a massive omelette right in front of us.

“Snuffy, breakfast is on me today!”

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Be Like Mike

grover

Simple answer to this origin… history lesson!   But unfortunately, this thirst-quenching quest isn’t really that cut and dry…

Gatorade, America’s most popular sports drink, founded on the campus of The University of Florida in 1965, and currently owned by PepsiCo., has incorporated the lightning bolt into it’s advertising since 1970.   Despite that, with a number of logo redesigns, it wasn’t until 2009 that the current “G-Series” logo was introduced with the bolt included.

Super Grover, the alter-ego of the Sesame Street character was introduced in the 1970’s, and used the “G” logo similar to the Gatorade font for decades, but it wasn’t until a 2010 re-branding that a lightning bolt was added to his costume.

So, while Gatorade was the first to use the lightning bolt, at the same time, Sesame Street can lay claim to the “G”.  All of this nonsensical circular research is really enough to make you feel winded and sweaty.

“After all of this flying, I am going to need many sips of Riptide Rush to feel quenched!”

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Lemon Lime or Lemon LIES?!?

So, if no one can officially produce concrete proof of placing their flag into the soil, it sunk in… maybe this is some kind of clever tie-in?  Maybe coincidences are for squares… Cahoots!  Cahoots I say!

After contacting both parties involved, here’s what I received back:

OFFICIAL STANCE FROM GATORADE/PEPSI CO.:

Andrew:

Thanks for writing to us. While I can’t comment on other consumer feedback, I can tell you that there is no official tie in between Gatorade and Super Grover.

I hope this helps.

Jenny
Gatorade Consumer Relations
A Division of PepsiCo

(sent on January 5, 2014)

OFFICIAL STANCE FROM SESAME STREET/THE JIM HENSON COMPANY:

No reply.   (as of January 10, 2014)

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Well, crap.

“All of this reading and things are still fishy!”

So, all that work, and where does that bring us?

Gatorade can weave a clever yarn, but it’s impossible to overlook these little coincidences

  • As recently as 2011, Sesame Place ran an on-can promotion with Pepsi, Gatorade’s parent company…

Well, I guess there has to be some kind of reward for suffering through a can of Diet Pepsi…

  • Sesame Street characters, Elmo and Abby Cadabby appeared in a segment with Los Angeles Laker, Kobe Bryant, who has appeared in Gatorade commercials as recently as last year…

“Elmo help fix Kobe’s broken knee!”

  • Last year, Diet Pepsi used actress Sofia Vergara in a campaign.  Sofia Vergara is essentially evolving into a giant, jiggly, impossible-to-understand, cartoonish Colombian Muppet as each day passes. 

“I love PEEEEEPSI, and being on SEEEEEESSSSAME STEEEEEET.”

 

With Sesame’s tight-lipped stance, perhaps we’ll never know if this sports beverage and this puppet superhero are in bed together.  Despite what Gatorade’s official statement is, like it or lump it, kids plopped in front of the tellie will know that lightning bolt, and when they cramp up on the soccer field this spring, we all know what beverage they’ll be handed first.   To quote Ned Flanders, while this remains foggy, I’ll remain a bit of a “Suspocious Aloysius”.

In a year’s time, when we’re treated to “Grover Grape” flavor Gatorade, we’ll all know where that marriage began.

Looks like Oscar’s flavor is still not confirmed yet.

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The Hand-burglar Turkey!

By Andrew Blumetti

It’s become an annual tradition that during November and early December, I spend the bulk of my free time hand-painting Christmas ornaments to sell at my nephew’s school Christmas sale.  Art has always been my first passion, so it’s been a lot of fun, and at this point, I’m nearly 100 in, have painted more Elf on the Shelfs, Elmos, and Disney Princesses than a grown man should admit to, (and surely now am one step closer to Carpal Tunnel Syndrome), which has taken away a bit of my time on here for a few weeks.

During this (delicious) time of thanks, I want to extend a big thank you to everyone on here for your continued support on my blog over the past three months.  Being able to create, share, and most importantly, make so many new and amazing friends is something I am very appreciate of, very thankful for, and cannot wait to continue. 

A very Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families!   Send me your leftovers!

-Andrew “Blumes” Blumetti

 

…but to quote Buzz McCallister from Home Alone 2, “enough of this gooey shhhhhh…ow of emotion”, here’s the stupidest thing you’ll see all day… robble… and gobble!

 

https://i2.wp.com/25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mduujqx3Q31qmwe2yo1_1280.jpg

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Tricks and Treats and Booklets of Satanists Sacrificing Cats… Oh the Things You’ll Get on Halloween Night.

By Andrew Blumetti

Yes, that classic old story again.

So, it’s November (or as I call it, “Not October”) and alas, Halloween is sadly over.

Back when he donned the eclipse-causing high hair and rat’s-nest-mullet like a first-rate 80’s champ, Jon Bon Jovi may have semi-eloquently declared, “Never say goodbye.”, but Jon, you schmaltzy-optomistic nut, the calendar says we have to.

Oh, don’t worry Bon Jovi, I’m just TEASING you…

Don’t get me wrong, Christmastime has this indescribable feel of childlike wonderment, whimsy, and snow-filled magic, and I cannot wait for the smell of freshly cut evergreens, peppermint and Nat King Cole’s gravely pipes belting out beloved yuletide carols while I spend 45-minutes searching for a parking spot outside Best Buy just to have to deal with the brainless derelicts inside.   Nonetheless, Halloween still holds a special place in my heart which is difficult to recreate no matter how many times I watch Rudolph gleefully reach for the heavens after dreamy doe, Clarice, says that she thinks he’s cute.

I love working on my lawn display, frequenting crowded haunted houses with fellow-ghoul lovin’ friends, and browsing Halloween stores complete with massive lines of shoppers snaking out the door.  And even though the 160+ candy-hungry trick-or-treaters didn’t leave me with an ounce of sugary junk to snack on, it was still a blast and a half.

…but much like that rascally ragamuffin Gary Coleman taught us—  different folks, different strokes…

“What’chu talkin’ ’bout Blumes?”

History Time:

My neighborhood, a small and quiet tree-filled suburb in Northern New Jersey is a safe and delightfully boring little town that has not just one, but two CVS’s and now two 7-11’s.  I’ve had the same neighbors since I can remember, the parking is ample, the lawns are lush and green in the summertime, and everywhere you look, a playful bunny is hopping around freshly-planted vegetable gardens like a delightful children’s book with a well-worn spine.

With a few exceptions, we’ve had very little changeover in the neighbor roll-call over the years–  most of the families are longtime residents who’ve now had their children grow up here and start adorable families of their own.

And I suppose with that kind of boring consistency, you don’t really get around to greeting the new folks as fast as you should when they actually do move in.

Mr. Rogers would be so disappointed in me.  That’s not very neighborly after all. You should really take a few minutes to welcome your neighbor, because who knows?  They could be Kate Upton, they could be your new best friend, or maybe, just maybe, you may want to keep an eye on them cause they could be just a bit odd.

But hey, who amongst us isn’t a little bit?

“Sorry Blumes, maybe next time.”

Well, that fickle little needle on the odd scale went from “a bit” to “Holy crow, it’s Christopher Walken after a dozen Mountain Dews” this past Thursday, October 31st.

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It was an unseasonably mild and relatively overcast Halloween afternoon. The breeze was nearly non-existent, and the weak late-October sun had given the ‘ol college try attempting to dry up the shallow puddles of collected rain that had fallen earlier in the morning.  After the schools were dismissed, my nephew and niece were in the area to do some trick-or-treating with my family to the local neighbors’ houses while I manned the door at home.  As it usually goes with the kiddies, excited spirits and happy feet soon turned to exhausted spirits and fatigued feet, as the joy of a spooktastic day soon began to show its age.  They returned home, and being the generous and giving uncle I am, I volunteered to help “sort out the candy”, which in layman’s terms, means “vulture-pick the kids’ freshly-earned candy stash”.

After laying down some immediate damage to a bag of Reese’s Pieces, I looked down, where amongst the crinkly piles of Butterfinger and gummy bear wrappers, we saw this staring back at us…

Holy moly on toast with jelly, what is this we have here?

My taste buds did a backflip cause- hey, isn’t that one of those Wendy’s coupon books for ten free Frosty ice cream treats?  Oh glorious day!

But no, this find should not be so sweet.

One peek inside, and we were greeting with lecturing, the cornerstone of any fun-filled Halloween.  Which is kind of an odd choice, considering we decided to give out Cheetos, M&M’s and Swedish Fish.

Now, for the record, I don’t have any problem with any kind of religion whatsoever.  My family is Catholic, and whatever floats your boat is cool with me.  I couldn’t care less if someone’s Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or if they pray to photos of Sofia Vergara’s bowling ball-shaped kid from Modern Family.

“BLOOOOMS, don’t you make the jokes on your BLOGGG about HEEEMM!”

All sensitivity aside, and with that being said, this beaut was too unsettling and gaul-darn hilarious to not share with the world, cause man alive, we apparently have some new neighbors who are borderline bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

This is still better than finding Mary Janes in your bag though…

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You may come home, tired from a long night of trick-or-treating, dump out that heavy bag full of sugary candy on the floor and count seven Milky Ways, five Snickers bars and a couple of Dubble Bubbles, but really, how many preachy books of cats about to be sliced up on a pentagrammed-alter do you have?

Not enough, right?

Now I know why there’s no cats around the neighborhood.  …and less cats means more mice… which means LESS CHEESE!!!!   Now they’ve gone too far…

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Twick or tweet! (apparently Satan is on Twitter now)

Just remember, Halloween’s no joke kids.

…except for this one:

-Why did the ghost go to the bar?

For the “boos”.

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Common sense would tell you, being the devil, you wouldn’t need a scary costume, cause ya know, you’re the evilest thing in existence, and the culmination of all the world’s hatred, malevolence, and terror.  Heck, people shell out a pretty penny just to dress like you on Halloween.

…but hey, that Party City coupon for that killer spooky pumpkin costume was just too good to resist.

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Bad news:  Human sacrifices will increase, so you’ll most likely be hacked to bits by guys in scratchy-looking cloaks who moonlight as roadies for Zakk Wylde.

Good news:  You won’t have to sit through another season of The Neighbors.

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Did you know?:  Witchcraft is “exploding” among teens today?  Looks like Bieber Fever is quickly being replaced with “witch itch”.

Blumes note:  Don’t mind that sour drawing of John Favreau.   He’s just bummed cause he blew a first-round pick on Ray Rice for his fantasy football team this year.

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Oh Satan you soulpatched-silly goose, the last time I trusted you, you pranked me by unscrewing the cap on the salt shaker.

Ruined my dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets…

More like TERROR-dactyl!

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Filed under Books, Comedy, Food, Halloween, Humor

A Very McRib Halloween!

Written and illustrated by Andrew Blumetti BOOMETTI

Holy moly on toast, we’re finally here!

Before our mouths start watering for delicious turkeys and the stores become packed to the brim with mistletoe and holly, we still have enough gas in the tank for one last spooky blast on this lovely October 31st.

But… well… did you notice something is a bit different?   Call me nuts, but I’ve got that sinking feeling something just doesn’t feel totally right.  Kind of like when Urkel’s voice hit puberty and that squeak of his soon morphed into a sound one would best describe as an alley cat vomiting on top another alley cat vomiting on a hobo being run over by a street sweeper playing Nickelback at full volume.

Let’s do a checklist…

  1. Bags of candy are ready for the trick-or-treaters?  CHECK.
  2. Is my Halloween display is at full tiltCHECK.
  3. Have I now eaten all of said bags of candy, leaving the trick-or-treaters crap outta luck?  DOUBLE CHECK.

Well, that survey is clearly air tight… so why does it feel like something’s simply off this October?  Reminds me of when they switched Harleys on Boy Meets World for one episode, not thinking we’d even notice.

“Dear Adam Scott, please get me an autograph from Ron Swanson.
Thank you,
Original Harley

Wait a pumpkin pickin’ minute…

EUREKA!  Much like Catherine O’Hara finally realizing she left Kevin McCallister at home by himself for Christmas, it’s hit me!

WHERE’S THE FREAKIN’ McRIB?!?

It’s been an oh-so tasty October tradition for years as those McDonald’s golden arches become a bit more greasy shinier when our collective mouthbuds salivate in all their fast food barbecue-y glory at the sight of this limited-time-menu item.

Never before have sauce-slathered pork, pickles and onions created such a rabid cult following, as rib-heads chase this high-caloric thing around the country as if Jerry Garcia was wailing away on it with his nine-and-a-half fingers.

JerryGarcia

Wait, I’M Jerry Garcia?!?  Man, am I fried! 

Usually, the phantom sandwich nestles it’s way into our beating hearts for just a few short delicious weeks, eventually rushing back into hibernation for another agonizing 11-months that we have to live with just stupid regular food.

In 2012, the Mickey-D’s powers-that-be ponderously decided to delay the McRib’s usual autumn release until December, to strengthen a usually slow-sales period, help anticipation grow, and make Santa even fatter. 

So far, the porkless wait is excruciating as this fall seems to be following the same test-your-fast food-patience pattern as last year, although according to Facebook’s McRib Locator, this currently flatlined ribless-autumn may finally have a blip of a heartbeat as elusive scattered McRib sightings have started showing up in select states. Hopefully leading into what hopefully will be a full-scale release before year’s end so I won’t have to keep writing weekly angry letters to the Hamburglar.

So, it makes you wonder… with all this newly-found time off, just how has the McRib been spending his downtime this Halloween season?

Lucky for us, the aggressive paparazzi never sleeps a wink, and being the invasive monsters they are, TMZ happened to snap a few pictures of just what happens when mass-produced pork has the time of its McLife.

Strap in folks, things are gonna get saucy

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  • You can believe McRib’s shaking in his boots watching things go bump in the night in during a Paranormal Activity marathon

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  • Everyone knows no Halloween season is complete without going all horror punk and blasting some Misfits.
  • His playlist:
  1. “HyRIB Moments”
  2. “Return of the Fries”
  3. “We Are 13-Ate”


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  • One cult following meets another as McRib crossdresses and hits up a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show

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  • The horror!   Ribby’s spilled his Dunkin’ Donuts pumpkin coffee!!

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  • Too many Snickers!!   C’mon McRib, lay off the Halloween candy!

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  • Finally, no proper Halloween is complete without spookin’ your McDonald’s brethren as the McRib zombie.  Behold… THE WALKING BREAD!!!

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Have a safe, happy, and sugary Halloween everyone!  It’s been a fun month, and a blast to celebrate with all of you.  Catch ya in November!

Andrew

17 Comments

Filed under Advertising, Art, Comedy, Entertainment, Food, Halloween, Humor, Pop Culture