As humanity moans and wanks off its average-sized dick, advertisers place a mirror in front of them to satisfy the need for products like cocktail-based mocktail-inspired juice-flavored water and pieces of chocolate that are thinner and sexier than bulky chocolate-based products like the ones in accounting, you know, in the cubicle across from yours with the cat calendars and sassy mugs with neon lettering. And small breasts on a large frame. There, I said it. Prose before hoes.
Of course I'm more focusing on the cocktail-based, mocktail-inspired juice-flavored water, the likes of which is tauted to be so pure to that of its cocktail brethren that its original formula likely fed Nazi troops back in '39 and mothered a few gorgeous Aryan children. However, Crystal Light Mocktails Mojito, assumes it's virginal in advertising but in real life, isn't really sure of its purity, like a girl who writes on Yahoo! Answers asking the masses if she lost her virginity by having sex over the internet. It's about as mojito-flavored as I'm mojito-flavored, or a tube of Lip Smackers lip gloss for underage alcoholics is. It's not bad, but it's not pure, just as this blog isn't bad, but it's not Pioneer Woman, either. Whatever. In the immortal words of Lionel Hutz, "This is the most blatant case of false advertising since my suit against The Neverending Story."
This mojito represents the naked truth of all that is evil on this planet. No joke. I hate it just a little more than I hate Rosie O'Donnell and naked self-portraits, but less than my hatred of the two combined. The racy idea that this is a drink that you can add one shot of booze to for every two quarts is unfathomably lame. Crystal Light doesn't know that I add scotch to my Cheez-Its, so hardxcore, but no amount of rum or rubbing alcohol can save this. It's practically fluorescent and smells like a chain smoker's mouth does post nicotine gum. There is neither hide nor hair of this on the Crystal Light website, meaning they're probably so embarrassed by this stint in womanly desires that they've erased it completely. This may be the last canister of Crystal Light Mocktails out there. eBay, here I come! I want my $5.
TL;DR, it's repackaged Crystal Light lemonade for women who have lost their way but wound up in the same place. Screw you guys, I'm going home.
Of course I'm more focusing on the cocktail-based, mocktail-inspired juice-flavored water, the likes of which is tauted to be so pure to that of its cocktail brethren that its original formula likely fed Nazi troops back in '39 and mothered a few gorgeous Aryan children. However, Crystal Light Mocktails Mojito, assumes it's virginal in advertising but in real life, isn't really sure of its purity, like a girl who writes on Yahoo! Answers asking the masses if she lost her virginity by having sex over the internet. It's about as mojito-flavored as I'm mojito-flavored, or a tube of Lip Smackers lip gloss for underage alcoholics is. It's not bad, but it's not pure, just as this blog isn't bad, but it's not Pioneer Woman, either. Whatever. In the immortal words of Lionel Hutz, "This is the most blatant case of false advertising since my suit against The Neverending Story."
This mojito represents the naked truth of all that is evil on this planet. No joke. I hate it just a little more than I hate Rosie O'Donnell and naked self-portraits, but less than my hatred of the two combined. The racy idea that this is a drink that you can add one shot of booze to for every two quarts is unfathomably lame. Crystal Light doesn't know that I add scotch to my Cheez-Its, so hardxcore, but no amount of rum or rubbing alcohol can save this. It's practically fluorescent and smells like a chain smoker's mouth does post nicotine gum. There is neither hide nor hair of this on the Crystal Light website, meaning they're probably so embarrassed by this stint in womanly desires that they've erased it completely. This may be the last canister of Crystal Light Mocktails out there. eBay, here I come! I want my $5.
TL;DR, it's repackaged Crystal Light lemonade for women who have lost their way but wound up in the same place. Screw you guys, I'm going home.
No comments:
Post a Comment