Thank You, Sir! May I Have Another?Last April, I wrote a post about how upset I was at Lipton for ruining one of their best products, Lipton Alfredo Noodles, by changing the original recipe from white semolina to whole grain. For those of you who read that post, you'll remember how devastated I was by the loss of my good friend, Alfredo. Those of you who haven't read my original rant, I urge you to do so now, so you'll understand my wrath -- and also because you'll see that I'm not alone in my rage, frivolous as it may be.
I'm sure you will be happy to know I found a comparable product to love, one that makes me happy by staying white:
Raise your fists, y'all, and shout with me now -- White power! White power! White power!
Oy, that comes across so wrong.
Well, anyway, today I've another complaint against corporate yahoo ding-a-ling ding-dongs who can't keep their big, fat paddle of parental guidance off of my consumer ass -- Kellogg's, to be exact. First, please allow me to wax delirious about the demise of a once favorite breakfast staple of mine -- Kellogg's Eggo Blueberry Waffles. Which I rarely ate for breakfast, mind you, as I usually forgo that most important meal of the day in favor of three large mugs of coffee and five cigarettes, but instead enjoyed my waffles (heaped with butter and Aunt Jemima maple syrup), as either a mid-day snacky-doodle or nighttime treat while watching Larry King crouch menacingly over his desk.
Jesus Christ, what was I writing about again?
Oh, wait, I remember -- I was writing about corporate America bending me over its artificial knee, pulling down my electric-blue thong, and swatting my rosy, bulbous buttocks over and over again until I admit my liking for whole grains and tofu.
Needless to say, I do not respect my daddy. I break the fifth commandment gladly and without shame. I do NOT honor my faux-father, nor will I ever. I am an obstinate, willful child who will defy any attempts to break me. Fuck you, Kellogg's, for turning my beloved blueberry waffles into cattle feed, a product that once delighted and astounded me with its chewy, crunchy delectability, but now tastes like cardboard covered in urine. The butter, the syrup, the mountain of cat food I pile atop those purple-flecked bricks of shit, do not disguise the gritty non-goodness.
I HATE you, Kellogg's! Do you hear me? I HATE you! And so do my children. And so does my grandmother. And my darling husband, Banjo Boy, who usually eats any damn thing put in front of his drooling piehole.
Time to scout out a replacement waffle. I sigh, heavily.
I have enough problems as it is, you know? I despise the little annoyances of everyday life enough for ten hateful people.
I sigh, deeply, madly.
Just another brick in the wall…