We had to do a general apartment maintenance shopping run this morning, lest we spend another week using small, dainty grocery bags as garbage bags. On our way to Wal-Mart, I stopped by 7-11 in the hopes of completing my Simpsons Movie food collection with the only thing left on the checklist: That stupid pink donut.
FINALLY! And it was the last one, too. I could barely contain my excitement, but I certainly tried, because the last thing you want to do when you're in the vicinity of total strangers is scream joyously over a gloppy pink donut. Even more grueling was the checkout line. We picked up a few other items, and I watched with horror as the cashier pulled, squeezed and threw my little donut baggie through the bowels of countertop hell, risking permanent damage to what is very clearly a collector's item.
If you think this donut is for eating, you are incorrect. In fact, I'm looking for suggestions on how to best preserve it. A shellac brushing, maybe? I've learned my lesson from the many Ninja Turtles pudding pies of the past. This donut must be archived. It's currently triple-bagged in the cheese drawer of our refrigerator, which contains absolutely no cheese, but if you're in the market for 42,000 packets of soy sauce, I'm your enabler.
An Internet trade mag recently confirmed that the key to obtaining repeat website visits is by writing about scented candles, so here I am. We're really digging these Febreze candles, not just because they help us forget about the thick air of cigarettes and cats that permeate every moment of our lives, but also because a lot of them smell like the holidays.
We thought it was a bit early to get one of the autumnny scents reminiscent of the Halloween season, so the obvious solution was to get a Christmas candle instead. "Apple Spice & Delight" may be apropos for anytime of year, but it smells like one of those faux wreaths sprayed to heck with cinnamon. Every time its sweet scent hits my face, I put a pillow under my shirt and blow audiences away with my Rosemary Clooney impression.
Our nearest Wal-Mart is next to our nearest Dollar Tree, and that situation is just too convenient to pass up on. There wasn't a whole lot of one-buck goodness to be found on this latest excursion, save for what's seen above: One of the strangest, stupidest toys in the history of playtime.
"Chef Mario's Dining Disasters" is a collection of "playsets" including a tiny, flimsy toy dinner plate topped with sticky, stretch toy macaroni with various bugs and critters lurking within it. Uh huh. The bugs range from the cockroaches seen above to things so disgusting that I can't bring myself to mention them in an entry that also includes such a palatable pink donut. It'd just be cruel.
While very clearly a cheapo dollar store toy of the highest order, it's incredible to see how much Chef Mario put into his packaging. They did a real photo shoot and everything, and Mario looks a lot like Jimmy (pronounced JEE-me) from that old Polly-O String Cheese commercial. The back of the packages paint our friend as a rogue chef who has his own ideas of what constitutes as a "special ingredient," meaning he's less of an unkempt, dirty chef and more of a chef who actually thinks that rats and cockroaches improve spaghetti dishes. That's so cool.
Remarkably, it would appear that these originally sold at prices far higher than a dollar. Amazon's got 'em with $9.99 price tags. It could be worth it, if only because you'd be able to cut out this this awesome picture of Chef Mario from the back of the package and glue it to your marble notebook cover. Way more edgy and fringe than some riff on an Obey Giant sticker, I think.
To wrap up this long and esoteric entry, I'd like to point out that it is fucking STORMING LIKE CRAZY here. POURING, STORMING, end-of-the-world level craziness. And I love it, I absolutely love it. The picture above was taken about 20 minutes before the storm hit; now, it's as if some 7,000 foot tall deity was taking a piss directly onto our house. I'd be surprised if I'm able to post this entry before the blackout strikes.
There's nothing better than a rainy Sunday, especially when you've got pink donuts, Christmas candles and bugs-in-macaroni to compliment the mood.
UPDATE: Looks like I challenged a higher power with my musings above. The power went out due to the storm around 1PM, and just came back on no more than five minutes ago. I was approximately thirty seconds away from posting this entry before we got zapped, too. I hate electricity.
Posted by Matt on 07/29/2007. E-mail me!
Chestnuts roasted by 
, but my Simpsons doughnuts were holding up pretty well after a couple of weeks, if that helps at all.
). I checked the old sales pitch, and you made a special point of the fact that you would never run out of things to mail, but I didn’t know if that had changed.
I’m tempted to go to the 7-11 on the White Horse Pike and buy myself one of those pink donuts to cheer myself up…and I HATE donuts.
We were also hit by those massive storms Matt mentioned. Not only did we lose power for about a half-hour, but my phone now has no dial tone, and the idiots from the phone company somehow missed a storm louder than most rock concerts and can’t figure out how dispatch more than two people at a time. I won’t be getting my phone back until Wednesday morning…maybe, knowing the phone company. I’m royally ticked off about this. I live 10 minutes from two of the largest cities in the United States of America, and the phone companies are STILL this inefficient? I’m typing this at the closest library to me and will probably be kicked off any minute, seeing how I’ve been on for almost an hour and a half and the library ladies are antsy about people actually using their fancy computers.