Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Dunkin' Donuts "Haunchies"

I’m excited by a new product that showed up literally on my doorstep today (well, I was buying coffee on my way to work and saw an ad for it). I’m afraid it might fail, however, due to lack of conviction by the parent company, and everyone else involved, it seems. The ad was small and washed out, with a terrible picture. Food photography is an art, but that doesn’t mean you can just close your eyes and snap the picture. A photograph of a delicious looking plate of spaghetti, for instance, is not spaghetti at all—but I’m completely off the subject.

I’m talking about new DUNKIN’ DONUTS “HAUNCHIES”—bite sized snacks for when you’re too busy for a whole donut, I guess. The existing product copy says: “It’s not a donut… and they’re not holes—new Dunkin’ Donuts Haunchies—for when you’re on the go.” I kind of like the off rhyme, but generally I find this pretty awkward and poorly written. I’m going to try my hand at writing a new ad, and then maybe try some of the Haunchies themselves, myself—see, for some reason everything about this product seems to come out awkwardly! Well, let’s give it a try:

“When is a donut hole not a donut hole? When it’s a CHAIR! That’s a joke! To soften you up to the new, bite-size(ed) snack from Dunkin’ Donuts, called The Haunchie! Though it shouldn’t take much softening, really—The Haunchie is soft, and as delicious as it looks. More delicious, really. And sugar-coating isn’t necessary—The Haunchie already took care of that. It’s not a donut, and it’s not a hole. Well, a donut hole isn’t really a hole, is it? There’s something to think about. When is a donut hole not a donut? When it’s the NEW DUNKIN’ DONUTS HAUNCHY. Or Haunchies, when it’s plural."

IT’s harder than it looks, this advertising business. Maybe I should leave it for the professionals. But really, I think this Haunchy, or Haunchies, is, or are, just a hard product to deal with. Awkward, and kind of messy. But that’s probably what they thought about hot dogs when they were first invented, and look where hot dogs are today!

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Why I Love (Touchdown) Jesus

In case it’s not obvious, that title is meant to be sarcastic. I love Jesus, okay? But I am not a fan of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, because as a college football fan without cable TV or ESPN, I’ve been forced to endure their crappy teams and boring games week after week on broadcast TV for years, while the games I wanted to see were not shown. But then, when a journalist has to start out by pointing out his sarcasm, she can’t really complain about “crappy.” I’d advise you to stop reading this right now and do something more productive!

The final play of the Texas Nebraska game—Colt McCoy loses his mind, takes way too long and sails the ball out of bounds, really wanting that touchdown, but settling on setting up a field goal—but he’s taken too long—the game is over—Nebraska wins! Except then they did a review, and because the ball hit a railing—on someone’s condo or something—rich people bullshit encroaching the field—rather than sailing harmlessly to the ground—they decided the clock should stop at that point, and put a second on the clock—time enough for Texas to kick a game winning field goal. It’s kind of like those situations in baseball where an outfielder is going to catch a ball, and a fan reaches out of the stands and catches it first. I’ve heard they’re considering, in struggling markets, setting up some four star restaurant tables right in the outfield so wealthy fans can have dinner there and further interfere with the game. You couldn’t really do that with football, but what’s with this “official review” madness? What’s next? Why not have an official video review after every single play in football? The game can last 12 hours, and there will be plenty of room for commercials.

Why is this important, really? Because if they didn’t do the review, or that structure wasn’t there, and the ball hits the ground, Nebraska wins the game, and Texas doesn’t go to the National Championship game. Instead, Cincinnati rightly goes to the championship game, and Brian Kelly, instead of taking the Notre Dame job, stays at Cincinnati. Bob Stoops takes the Notre Dame coaching job, and they go 3 and 9, 6 and 6, and 4 and 8 in the next three years before he’s fired and then Brian Kelly eventually gets the Notre Dame job. The Touchdown Jesus works in mysterious ways.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Friday, July 17, 2009

Wendy's New Sweet & Spicy Asian Chicken

The flight to the mountaintop thwarted by starvation and disease, Pamela Anderson nude and Jennifer Love Hewit nude. A Botticelli nude greeted us with the first bite, and again and again memories persisted. We entered the valley with great trepidation and made our way among the vast and treacherous footholds of wisdom, we ripped the top off of the henhouse and our eyes were met my flightless birds also songless, though bathed in riches, saffron and rubies. Alyssia Milano nude,Pamala Hewit nude, slithering on the East side of the mountain, melted by early summer runoff and fermenting ecstasies Each bite was met with full shock and discovery of contradictions, sweet and sour, hot and not-so-hot, flavorful and tasteless, inexorable and uxorious, limber and lumber, the chimps set sail. Trapped inside a four foot square cell for the winter with Camoran Diaz nude we hibernated like the ducks and geese, mewwing, and purring, dreaming of a past when fangs and claws ripped flesh from the earth and the durian and the christian. David Thomas would not love this, head of the boy scouts of America, head of PereUbu, head of the severed. The Francis Bacon hallucination hanging in the trees at the edge of the park, glowing orange, swallowing up all around it.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

New Mountain Dew VolTage

I just saw this in the store and immediately bought it because, for one, it's NEW, and also because I was attracted to the light blue color of the liquid itself. I will buy any and all food that is the color blue... at least once. As with all new products, and especially energy drinks, I expected the worst, but I was pleasantly surprised that it has a pleasant flavor for an artificially flavored soft drink. Though the word “soft” is hardly appropriate for highly caffeinated Mountain Dew of any variety, except for Caffeine-Free Mountain Dew. The word for that is: pointless.

Apparently they had a contest to pick the new flavor in a national contest called "Dewmocracy" — claiming that it was created by DEW drinkers, which of course isn't true. But I guess they did offer three possibilities, and had a vote... though I'm skeptical about the fairness of the process, as DEW drinkers are the kind of people who will compulsively vote like a thousand times. Letting DEW drinkers pick anything is a scary idea; if they were the only ones voting for president... I don't want to think about it. Can you picture: President David Allan Coe?

The good news is that this stuff is not only drinkable, it's pretty darn good. No identifiable flavor really: I'd call it blue, or artificial blue flavor. There is a small amount of ginseng, supposedly, but don't count on it being any more than would sit comfortably on the head of a pin. There is brominated vegetable oil, which all the good soft drinks contain. And the best, and most surprising thing, it's not too sweet! I don't know how THAT happened, but it's a welcome "DEW-velopment." Though, for my taste, it could be less sweet still. And don't worry, there is still enough caffeine and sugar to give you a hefty lift, before dropping you about a half hour later like a baby from the greasy fingers of a bad, crack-head boyfriend. But then you buy more, and more, and more. It hasn't been determined yet, at press time, if it makes you pee blue.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Open letter from Anthony Franciosa to Moss Problem writers

I had my accountant look over the books for The Moss Problem and he tells me we are in serious financial trouble. As many of you know, it has long been my preference to let people motivate and govern themselves while I simply fulfill my roll as sage, guidance counselor, and small town traffic cop. But with the recent upheavals in the economy, I, and indeed WE, no longer have the luxury to lackadaisically lollygag, loaf, and fuck around, and get paid for it. I realize that your writers’ salary isn’t much, but take a look around you! Many fine, longstanding journalists at publications more formidable and with a greater advertising base than this one have been shown the door and are now working as baristas and bike messengers. Maybe I let you people slide for too long, and you haven’t had the benefit of fear or hunger to motivate you. Well, sorry to say, things are gonna change, baby.

Some of you haven’t written a single article IN THE PAST YEAR. We cannot allow this kind of sloth to continue if we’re going to compete with the big boys. You people are cashing your paychecks—for what? To grace our contributor list? Readers aren’t stupid; when they see no new articles appearing in our pages, it means only one thing to them: no new articles. Soon, they will look elsewhere for news and intellectual stimulation. I really don’t want to have to let any of you go, but if things don’t change I will soon be forced to make cuts. I will be forced to trim, and even, though I hate to say it, perform surgery without anesthetic. And finally, I will be forced, though against my aesthetic judgment and warmer feelings, to separate the wheat from the chaff.

From today on we must have changes. Big changes. If you writers aren’t going to come up with articles, I will have no choice but to cease calling you writers. I will call you deadbeats. Unless one of your brilliant postings is titled: “An open letter to Anthony Franciosa: Why I Should Continue To Get Paid Even Though I Make No Contributions To The Moss Problem." Well, here it is. I will just cease to pay you, that’s all. You can go off and write for Yelp, for all I care. And it has come to my attention that some of you already do. Please explain THAT to me.

From this day forth, writers, don’t even bother coming into the office unless you plan to leave copy on my desk. And you’re going to have to spell-check it yourself, because the first ones to go are our copy editors and fact checkers. That is, after the accountant, who I really didn’t need to tell me we’re in deep financial shit. At any rate, hear me out: If you aren’t coming to the office with an idea and some inspiration, don’t bother to come in at all. If you aren’t coming into the office operating at 110%, don’t bother to come in at all. We must look at every day like it is the Superbowl, but even more than that, the Superbowl of The Future, where the losing team gets euthanized, carved up, and barbequed at post-game tailgate parties. In short, if you are not coming into the office to PERFORM, stay at home and do whatever the hell it is that writers do when they’re at home. Procrastinating is my best guess.

With all due respect and no offense intended,

Anthony Franciosa