Caught a bad case of the Vegases

When you see this you have got to feel sorry (or sorrier) for anyone who was actually born in Las Vegas, because apparently it's SO widely accepted that their hometown is an unstoppable cesspool of disease that it's completely acceptable to just throw it on a billboard. I mean, consider this, wouldn't it suck if you were from Topeka and you'd casually just hear people saying: "You just came back from where? Topeka? Better get your dick checked..." That's exactly what residents of Vegas have to deal with, and if that's not harsh enough now we're plastering their flaws on three-story high ads. You don't see any billboards touting New York as the bum-piss capital of the world, or Tampa Bay as having the nation's only 3-to-1 stripper to person-with-a-soul ratio, yet we treat the City of Lights with such careless disregard?
Ouch. Sorry Vegasites... Vegans... Vegasians? Whatever the hell you are. Sorry.

Coors Light: Official beer of the NFL, and Satan

Yummy as a bag of buttholes.

Recently, I spent my day tweeting away about the evils of Coors Light and their unholy marketing strategies only to see, not even a week later, that yet another horse shit ad campaign had been unleashed upon us. Now Coors Light was offering a label that would not only tell you when your beer was cold, but also inform you that "Oh, guess what, this beer is now Super Fucking Cold" (or some shit like that). And not only were they telling you when your beer was "Super Cold," but they were doing so with genius commercial spots featuring Ice Cube arguing with a bottle of Coors Light (FYI Ice Cube, you lost the chance of anyone ever thinking you're "cold" again when you made "Are We There Yet?").
Anyway, I decided that since my Twitter rant had evidently gone unnoticed (there's no blow to the ego like realizing a massive corporation doesn't follow your microblogging habits), it was time to reach out to world with a full-on blog post. One that will hopefully bring Coors Light to its knees once and for all.


An open letter to the soulless bastards at the Coors Light marketing department:
- A wider mouth + color changing label mountains + a view window on the box + a home draft pack + Super Cold Activation + some giant silver train that somehow rips through the streets without ever running someone over = Congratulations, you have mastered the creation of gimmicks. Now consider putting that same effort into deciphering the brewing process, because your beer is unspeakably terrible.
- A temperature cannot double as a marketing initiative. Claiming to brew the world's coldest beer is like Campbell's telling us we should eat Chunky because it's the world's hottest soup. It makes no sense. Besides, everyone knows we should eat Campbell's Chunky soup because Donovan McNabb's mom says so.
- A taste as cold as the Rockies? News flash, cold is not a fucking taste, it's a feeling. And on that note I know my beer is cold when I feel it with my hand. I don't need some paint-by-numbers label to help me crack the case. Even on a blind test I'm confident I'd know if it's cold or not, and on top of that I could even figure whether or not it's Coors Light based on whether it tastes like a Budweiser that has already gone through, and subsequently been peed out of me.
In summation, the only gimmick that will ever get me to drink your "beer" is if every 18-pack came with twenty bucks, and even then, I really can't say for sure. So enjoy your impossibly awful, tasteless, albeit freezing cold beer, then promptly choke on it and die.
Yours in Christ,
TK


Now hear me citizens who don't believe we deserve to be pandered to by some shit-eating marketing reps who think we'll gulp down any worthless swill as long as it's nice and chilly, and join me in boycotting the most God forsaken adult beverage in all the land (and yes, that absolutely includes this). So pass this post along to anyone you know who loves drinking beer and hates drinking cold urine, and especially to the poor souls who have fallen victim to the vicious brainwashing of the Silver Bullet. Who knows, this may even make its way to a Coors Light rep and shine light upon the horrible error of his ways. 
Regardless, we must band together and bring an end to this evil regime, so stay strong, demand quality suds, and just say no to ice cold Coors Light.

Bathe those feet in sweet, sweet luxury

Are you sick of letting your base extremities go unwashed because of that pesky bending over at the waist thing? Are you tired of the putrid fungus forming between your little piggies simply due to your unwillingness to literally clean head to toe? Do you find yourself wishing every day that you were born back in the good old days of the first century when Jesus was washing feet like there was no tomorrow?
Well my funky-footed friend, today is your lucky day...

From the makers of "Showering after a hefty dump in lieu of wiping your ass."

 

 

It's time to put an end to these garish pirate stereotypes

I was on my way to do a show last night (blowin' up in the back room at the Westwood Brew Co., getting famous much?) when I spotted this giant building-side ad off Wilshire:

Yo ho, yo ho, it's a pirate's alternative lifestyle for me!

All I could think to myself was that actual pirates must be rolling over in their watery graves over how unbelievably gay they are being portrayed as in modern media. While I'm sure some of them liked to accessorize, it's hard to believe the pirate population as a whole enjoyed beaded hair wraps, streaks of highlights, beard-beads (what is with this dude and beads?) or generously applied eye-liner quite as much as Captain Jack Sparrow seems to.
Now let me be clear by pointing out that there is nothing wrong with being gay, but that it simply might not sit so well with some roughneck sea-dogs helplessly watching this franchise make multi-millions from their perch in the big crow's nest in the sky. Sure Johnny Depp might say Captain Jack is based on Kieth Richards, but from where I (and probably a bunch of emasculated dead pirates) sit, it seems a lot more like the weird mustachioed gentleman who offers to braid your hair for five bucks in the Bahamas.

Meet LA's finest billboard doctor

While driving slowly up Olympic toward Santa Monica yesterday morning, I happened upon a billboard featuring this man:

Unable to snap a picture due to traffic, and the tears in my eyes from laughing so hard, I was luckily able to track Dr. Daniel down on the internet for your viewing pleasure.
There's just so very much to love about this man's ad campaign. First off, his name is fucking Dr. Daniel. And it is a well known fact that any doctor who goes by his first name is just displaying the fact that he's going to spend the majority of your appointment making inappropriate jokes. Second, his slogan is "Hola Dr. Daniel!" I LOVE IT. It's like he's hoping to cash in on the niche market of Hispanic's who are not only unhappy with how they look (of course he's a plastic surgeon, it's LA), but are also huge fans of The Simpsons (Is he also a proud alumnus of Hollywood Upstairs Medical College?). And lastly, this man has clearly spent a great deal of time crafting what would be his public image, and it has paid in dividends. I just picture him during the photo shoot explaining to the photographer: "I want people to look up and think to themselves, 'Well I can see that he's a doctor, but I find myself wondering if he may also be an Alliance approved magician available for private parties.'"

Stoners rejoice...

... for your day, a day that will be looked on as the greatest in your storied history, the arrival of your Messiah, will soon be upon us.
It was recently discovered that pothead paradise food chain Taco Bell is in the testing phase on a taco whose shell is constructed entirely out of one giant nacho cheese Dorito.

"I'm not ashamed to admit how aroused I am right now."

I'll give you a moment to gather yourself... wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth, it's gross... better?
I don't even know what to say here except why the testing? I can tell you what the results will be: FRIGGIN' DELICIOUS. Unless there is some legitimate worry that a Dorito of this size may spontaneously combust (and even if there is, I might just be willing to take that risk), I say for the love of God unleash this miracle of modern ingenuity on the anxiously awaiting public!
Unfortunately, Taco Bell has not yet indicated if or when they will make the tacos nationally available (evidently they hate money), but it's safe to say that the day you see white guys with dreadlocks in hemp shirts flooding the streets with orange fingers and public boners is the day the Doritos Locos Taco is officially here to save us all.