Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The CeREAL Life

From what I understand, most of our readership has left us. That's not to say that they've stopped reading, but that for the most part, they have literally left the Chicagoland area. Where did they all go? Why, school of course! That happy time in life filled with drunken hate speech about professors and equally drunken love speech like "Hey you, beautiful. Listen, have you ever heard of the Fullerton Transfer?"

This mass migration - this would be a good time to coin the phrase massgration - has continued, for many of you, the bi-annual trend of living away from home at a dorm or an apartment. I think in the interest of fairness to this blog post, and to all of you, it should be made public information that I was a commuter during my college years. However, I am still fully able to relate to the conversation we're about to!

My aforementioned independent friends often ask me, "Hey that's my girlfriend guy, what the fuck is your problem?" But in their less hostile moods, they often ask me, "Man, Tapan Jones, what the hell should I eat today?"

The back and forth invariably settles on a mainstay of the American diet - cereal. That's right, the deliciousness of those sugary little bits of finger food knows no bounds (with the exception of their binding rectangular domiciles, of course). Cereals taste great, satisfy hunger, and even promote happiness with their colorful designs and sexy spokespeople (I'm talking to you Count Chocula).

There is something I should let you know though, friends. My research into this delicacy has led me down an interesting path of lucky charms to that one single pot of gold in the box.

You see: Cereal companies run the drug trade!

User - Pusher - Queen's Guard

Some of you may read that and say, "Grrrrrreat. This guy doesn't know what he's talking about. This is another one of his Trix. I'm leaving. Cheeri-o"

But wait, hear me out! All it takes to validate my claim is a small look into the names of the products themselves. Observe:

1) (insert flavor) Puffs - Smoking references, with tons of variety
2) Fruity Pebbles/Loops - Ecstasy reference. I seriously just google image searched the word ecstasy and this is what I got. Seriously. I can't make this shit up.
3) Frosted Flakes - Cocaine reference. Tony Montana. Tony the Tiger. COME ON!
4) Honey Smacks - Smack is heroin people.
5) Banana Nut Crunch - Okay, not drug-related, but just kind of gross. Think about it for a second... there you go

So there you have it. My expose. And as the piece de resistance, think to yourself, what do drug users crave more than anything when they're high.....? That's right.

Until next time, just remember. This is your brain:

And this is your brain on cereal:

Hope you got your Kix,
Tapan Jones

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Shake Ya Brass, Watch Ya Self

When I look at a girl playing a tuba, I think to myself, "Wow. She must have really big lungs." Big lungs are one of the Top 4 things I look for in a woman. And when I watch the same girl march with that brass behemoth buoyed on her belly, I think to myself, "Wow. She must have really strong pecs. I wonder how much that tuba weighs?"

But then I get to thinking, you know, what would happen if she stepped on some uneven pavement, and she fell with the tuba and got stuck inside it? That probably wouldn't be very sexy at all. Probably just really noisy, actually. I'd have to leave the parade because it would hurt my ears--the girl struggling to free herself from the tuba, I mean.

When you stop to think about it, there are a lot of instruments that are much more arousing than tubas, and much more than you probably (hopefully) realized. So without further ado...


...Leon Phelps?

If you've never been aroused by a trombone, I just don't know what to tell you. It's really obvious. First of all, what heavenly music they make! A little slice of heaven. Second, you're obviously blowing into the thing, and you're sliding that big metal piece back and forth like you're Charlie Sheen or something.


Explanation needed? Probably.

Besides sounding like sexophone, the saxophone is the tried-and-true staple
instrument for smooth jazz-seducers. It actually even looks kind of sexy. I mean, you could do worse, if you were so inclined.


Oooooo.... hot.

Look at this thing. I have no idea what the hell it does or how the hell it works, but I know that I'd be terrified of anyone evil enough to play it. I bet Criss Angel 's really good.


You better believe Ben Franklin knows how to play the Glass Harmonica.

You play it by wetting your fingers and rubbing them over the glass. No, really.


Pure Sex.

No other instrument so deftly combines the intimacy and warmth of a piano solo with the crotch-grabbing and spandex of hair metal in such a mobile package. Turn to the keytar if the object of your desire has a great affinity for horribly, horribly unattractive people.

On a funnier note, I'm sure you've all noticed the sweet new banner up top by now. A big thank you to Tom Glass for putting that together for us. If you'll kindly notice, each letter is taken from a different Chicago-themed thing. We'll post the key to what's what in the comments. What a guy Tom is!