Monthly Archives: November 2018

Wild Wienie Water

wienersThe accusatory finger was pointed at P.T. Barnum when the words were uttered, “There’s a sucker born every minute.” There is no greater modern-day proof of the shocking truth of that statement than the fact that you can now purchase a tube of Hot Dog Water for $37.99 before applicable sales tax. And people actually are! Seriously. A tube filled with a small wiener floating in the unfiltered water it was cooked in. Just when I thought there was hope for mankind.

Douglas Bevans, who seems to be at the center of the wiener water world, set up a booth at a festival in Vancouver, British Columbia and did a frighteningly great amount of business on the premise that the wonder water would make you look younger, improve your overall vitality, reduce swelling, and – wait for it – improve your brain function. Well, thank God! Because if I’m shucking out nearly $40 for a small bottle of cold hot dog water and actually drinking it, I’ve got serious issues with my brain function, to the point that I shouldn’t be operating heavy equipment, like a toothbrush, for example.

What’s more, you can also purchase hot dog water lip balm, body fragrance, and hot dog water breath spray. Obviously, I need to be drinking my chilled hot dog water because I’m not finding enough brain function to figure out why you’d want your breath or body to smell like hot dog water unless you are an actual dog. In which case, perhaps we should consider expanding this idea into toilet water as well.

When asked to substantiate the miracle claims of his wiener water, Mr. Bevans, who is the Hot Dog Water CEO, hemmed and hawed to Global News, “There’s a fair bit of it that is too science-y for me, but from what I understand from the specialists here working on it, it’s this idea of like-likes-like.” Like oh my God like for sure like I get that… No. No, I don’t get that.

When you boil it down, this is no different than coffee enemas, tongue scraping, leaches, blood-letting, or hay bathing (soaking in a pile of wet hay to relieve joint pain – really, it’s a thing.) But on the chance I’m wrong, just send your $40 directly to me, and I’ll send back a magical package of Oscar Meyers and you give it a whirl.

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Ash Bashing

A burned, half-eaten biscuit, with a few crumbs, on a white background.I don’t know what it is where you grew up, but at my childhood school, Grandparents’ Day meant bringing your parents’ elderly living parents to school. Alive. You could even bring an older person who wasn’t necessarily related to you but filled that role of a grandparent in your life. The key element being that they were actually still alive. One girl in Davis, California brought her grandfather to school to share with her friends, except she’d baked his cremated ashes into cookies and passed them out.

What happened to the idea of respecting your elders? Maybe it’s a bigger issue to me now that I’m tipping into that elder category myself. While I loved my grandma more than anything on earth and I do really love a good chocolate chip cookie, combining the two does not magnify the love for or greatness of either no matter what angle you look at it. I love endangered baby harp seals. I love lasagna. That does not mean that I want to combine the two into an ill-gotten, macabre casserole to share with unsuspecting friends.

What makes it all even weirder, there were kids that ate the cookies knowing that Grandpa was an ingredient! One of those students, Andy Knox, said that despite containing “tiny grey flecks”, there was no way to tell it was human remains. “If you ever ate sand as a kid, you know, you can kind of feel it crunching in between your teeth, so there was a little tiny bit of that.” Okay, remember that kid’s name. If he ever runs for office, do not vote for him no matter who the other choice is.

Investigating police officers had to figure out what laws cover baking deceased human remains into food and tricking people into eating them. Is this a food and beverage violation? I don’t know, but scientists say that despite how distasteful in every possible way this is, there was no risk to the cookie eaters.

First you have Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards snorting his father’s ashes with way too much cocaine (Seriously. Google it.) and now this. What happened to the idea of Rest in Peace. That’s peace as in peaceful and leave me alone once I’m dead. Not piece of your next recipe. Lord! Kids these days!

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Road Rumble: Deer v Infiniti

BambiDeer Season everywhere pretty much starts the middle of November. There are strict dates on when you can hunt deer with a bow, firearms, muzzle loaders, light sabers, the power of your mind. But when is sports car season for deers? I found nothing on the guidelines for taking out a deer with an Infiniti G37. Fortunately, since I failed to bag my fawn-faced hood ornament, there is, at least, no fear of a poaching fine. An insurance claim, however, is another story.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I hit Bambi or if Bambi ran into me. I was making a run to the local, small airport at the freezing cold butt crack of dawn and driving along a dark rural road, not even doing the speed limit which is nearly unheard of for me. When out of the corn field alongside the road jumps Bambi and his mother! Geez, can we not get reflectors tagged on these animals?!

I stood on the brakes. Bambi stood on the hooves. Momma deer leaped on across to safety and Bambi hit reverse. But my fender hit his fender and he took off my passenger side mirror. He ran off; I drove off. I pooped my pants; he pooped in the woods. We’ll both likely be fine. The car can be fixed.

So like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. Again. I think my long-suffering agent cringes every time my number comes up on the caller ID at his office. As long as the deer doesn’t file a claim against my policy, my deductible isn’t too bad. Not that Bambi would have much trouble finding me since my license plate is probably imprinted on his butt. And if he pursues it, I’ll happily pay his vet bills and he can pay for the overpriced body shop that works only on specialty imports.

Meanwhile, I’ll put the car in the shop, cruise around in a conservative, rental sedan with added safety features, and stock up on those worthless whistle things that are supposed to scare animals away from your car (I already know the research says they don’t work). Hopefully, though, this is will be the last time the local wildlife and I go antler to engine. Otherwise, I’ll have to see if there’s an after-market cattle guard for my little hot rod.

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