Daily LOL

[FortunadoBWR]

[trisian]

[Sildarath]

[Argath_BWR]

[Melly-Mel]

peopleofwalmart.com .... Need I say more...

[trisian]

Cuitlacoche



Cuitlacoche is a black fungus that infects corn fields, making the kernels bulbous and swollen as they fill with spores. It also goes by the name Huitlacoche. If you're having trouble with the pronounciation, it's: Cuitlacoche (kweet-lah-KOH-chay) or Huitlacoche (dat-sfuckin-NAS-tee).

It's safe to say this is the first time I've ever paid for an infection. I am, of course, not counting the one I got from your mother. (YES! You walked right into that.)

I've read that U.S. farmers consider it a disease and destroy it. Farmers in Mexico put it in cans and sell it as a delicacy. I travelled far and wide to find my own precious can of Cuitlacoche. Okay, it was at my supermarket, but I had to drive like two miles to get there and got stuck at a couple of lights.

Enough chit-chat. I'm gonna go dine on a can of disease. But before I do, I really do feel bad about that cheap mother joke. My sincere apologies to you and your lovely mom. (The filthy whore.) Be right back!



Oh, sweet Christ. Visually, I think the bar for Steve, Don't Eat It! is about to be set at a new low. So I'm going to ease you people into this one. Let's begin with a single spore-filled kernel before we examine the entire contents.

The following picture is a swear-to-God-unretouched-side-by-side comparison of a normal kernel of corn and an infected huitlacoche kernel, both from the same can.



These results can also be achieved by bombarding a kernel of corn with gamma rays and then making it angry. (But be warned. You won't like it when it's angry.)

Alright, you've waited long enough.

Presenting the entire can of imported sludge (that I was actually charged money for)...



Don't worry, I checked the ingredients before I tasted it. "Smoker's lung" was not on there.

Before I even got the whole can open, I detected a vague aroma of sweet corn, along with what I can only describe as a deep musky funk. Put 'em together and it smells like corn that forgot to wipe.

In just a single serving, you'll experience a wide array of textures. Without getting too gross, it's because the disease is more advanced in some kernels than others. One bite might be kinda chewy, while the next might burst in your mouth like a black pus-filled blister. (Whoops, forgot about the not-too-gross thing. Oh well. Nuts to you!)

So, how does Huitlacoche taste? Does it matter?? LOOK AT IT!

I guess it would be fair to say it doesn't taste as truly horrible as it looks. The flavor is elusive and difficult to describe, but I'll try: "Kinda yucky." Hey, that wasn't so hard after all. (Sometimes I forget I'm a goddamn wordsmith.)

For any connoisseurs, I'm not sure if this stuff would go better with red wine or white. How about with a bottle of Bactine? I've always found that goes great with infections.

Huitlacoche also goes by some other names. It's frequently called Maize Mushroom, Corn Smut, and Mexican Truffle. I've even heard it referred to as "Devil Poop"-- but that was only after I said it. (For God's sake, it comes with little bits of corn already in it! Talk about a time-saver.)



I thought it was interesting that Monteblanco chose to make their company logo the focal point of the can. I also found a can of huitlacoche from Goya. They, too, have downplayed the visuals by hiding it in a mild-mannered burrito.



I went ahead and made a new can label for the gang back at Cuitlacoche Central. As always, this is a free service.



Well, that brings us to the end of a long overdue Steve, Don't Eat It! And now I have a belly full of diseased corn. Maybe I should go see a doctor about a penicillin shot.

For your mom. (YES! In your face! Oh man...)

[Malkorvan]

He sets up the shot! He shoots! HE SCORES FOR THE WIN!!!!

[Nightglif]

Because sesame street.....is a very bad show ;D

[trisian]

Natto



I recently came across a container of fermented soybeans in the supermarket. I don't mean an old container of soybeans some stockboy forgot to toss. These are fermented-on-purpose soybeans from Japan. That's what Natto is.

I remembered hearing about this stuff on Iron Chef one time when it was the secret ingredient. The judges in the show were commenting on what a great job the chefs had done to "supress the smell" of the natto. I'm no Iron Chef, but I've got a clever way to supress the smell. Don't put it in your fucking food. I might not win "Battle Natto," but I promise you my dinner won't smell like stank-ass soybeans.

I found it slightly unsettling that the sealed styrofoam container had creepy little airholes in it. As if what was inside needed to breathe. I dared to lift the lid, which made me regret that I needed to breathe. The natto was coated in some kind of sick slime and had the complex yet playful aroma of a dumpster in July.

Actually, the little pile inside looked kinda like baked beans. It also smelled kinda like baked beans. If they were baked in the filthy heat of Satan's asshole.



This particular batch was made by a company in Japan called Shirakiku. I haven't been able to determine if Shirakiku is a food manufacturer, or just a store that sells gag gifts and practical jokes. It might be both.

Not unlike Michael Jackson, these harmless soybeans had undergone some kind of hideous transformation. They were now a freakish version of their former selves. (Which, coincidentally, should also be kept away from your children.)

The most disturbing aspect of this stuff is it seems to get "activated" when you stir it. What I mean by this is, (and I may actually weep, but...) the slimy coating on the beans develops into stringy, stretchy, marshmallow-like strands that will forever haunt my dreams.

dripping with natto goodness



Basically, if you move it back and forth enough, you're left with a gross, sticky mess. (Hey, natto and I have at least one thing in common!) And now that I think about it, that's exactly what it looks like the pranksters back at Shirakiku did into my beans. You guuuys!

I force-fed myself a big ol' spoonful, and found it to be slightly rancid and extremely bitter. Unfortunately, swallowing didn't help dissipate the flavor because the strings of bean jizz melted, coating my mouth and lips with a glistening sheen of sadness.

The entire experience is difficult to describe, but if you can remember back to the very first time you made out with a hobo's ass, it's a lot like that.

What I find most hilarious is that there is an expiration date on the package. What could they possibly expect to happen to the product on this date THAT HAS NOT ALREADY OCCURRED?!!!

Also, nestled in this mound of compost was a li'l packet of mustard. In its place, I would strongly suggest a written apology.

I do have one last theory about the date on the package. It may be an expiration date, but not for the beans. If you finish the container, that's the day you die.

[trisian]

Breast Milk



Until now, the foods I've sampled for this section have all come from the supermarket. Then one day I realized that a perfectly viable candidate has been sitting right under my nose for months. Right in my very own refrigerator. And it came right out of my wife! No, I'm not talking about that giant cucumber, perv. I'm talking about breast milk.

That's right. And not just a little drop off the odd finger, but a genuine slug of freshly-pumped wife juice. (I'll go ahead and ignore the shiver I just got, and keep typing.)

Thinking about actually drinking breast milk has caused me to ponder the question: Is it not weirder to drink cow's milk which is truly intended for baby cows? The answer: Hell no! The only thing weirder than me drinking breast milk, is the fact that milk is coming out of my wife's chest in the first place. It sure as hell didn't do that when I met her. I'm telling you, the whole thing is lunacy. I love my wife, but does she really have to be such a mammal?

Okay, I have put this off long enough. The time has come. I'm off to The Booby Bar to see what they've got on tap...

***************

***************

Oh, where do I begin?

Well, I did feel the need to find the appropriate glass. Drinking it from a baby bottle seemed too on the nose (not to mention too creepy), and I didn't have enough milk to justify a martini glass. (Although with a splash of Bailey's I suppose you'd have yourself a nice "Nippletini.") Luckily the "Dumbass Website Gods" smiled down upon me. I came across the only shot glass we happened to have in the house, and it was actually from Wisconsin -- The Milk State!

I must admit that my aversion to drinking breast milk is something of a double-standard. Let me try to put this as delicately as I can out of respect to my female readers... but some women have been known to willingly "ingest" a certain dubious "body fluid" made by men, during moments of "intimacy." (These moments are known as "blow jobs." These women are known as "awesome.")

Nevertheless, I couldn't bring myself to just do the whole shot at once, so I started out with a little girly sip. And the truth is it's not that bad at all. It tastes like milk, just slightly more sweet. And mentally, just slightly more making me want to gargle with Clorox and assume the fetal position while I question my life.

Now, while I may have issues with drinking this stuff, I have been a huge fan of its packaging for years. You may be interested to know that breast milk is now available in a variety of convenient sizes:

from the portable, half-pint container...



to the more economical one gallon jugs.



To make things more interesting, and a little bit easier on myself, I decided to break out the Hershey's syrup and whip up some chocolate breast milk.



This time I just knocked the shot right back, and two words immediately came to mind: Yoo Hoo. It tasted just like good ol' Yoo Hoo. I almost want to say that drinking breast milk isn't so bad, except the other two-word phrases that also came to mind were "stomach pump" and "kill me."

I'm officially leaving all future breast milk drinking in the capable hands of my baby boy -- the one guy who now gets to second base with my wife way more than I do. But, I don't mind. I love that little asshole.

[trisian]

Last time I played red light green light was grade school.

[trisian]

Want to see a grown man cry?

[Lightpelt]

Good to have you back Trisian.

[trisian]

I'll post more as time goes on... getting sleepy since it's 4am

[trisian]

Years ago, my friend Lisa gave me an autographed box of Urkel-O's cereal. It is signed: "To Steve -- God Bless, Jaleel White." I don't know, but if I were God, I'm not sure I'd listen to Urkel. In fact, I think my Godly response might be something like, "Hey, fuck you, Urkel. Don't tell me who to bless."

Incidentally, I'm not the "Steve" it was signed for. Lisa found the box in a collectibles store, but that's okay. I don't mind being a second-hand Steve.

I had always been a little creeped out that the cereal was still in the box since 1991. But the Urkel-Os are now 14 years old, and I am no longer creeped out. I'm psyched, because I realized what I have in my possession is not just a box of old cereal (and possibly some larvae), but a chance to taste history.

This particular box of Urkel-O's is unique because it's some kind of weird sales sample, and has "marketing features and benefits" on the back. One of the "features" is actually listed as: Fun, circle-shaped product. I had no idea circles were so fun. At least now I know what to get the kids next Christmas. A fucking circle.

I'd also like to point out, that the cereal itself doesn't have a single thing to do with Urkel. It's just strawberry and banana flavored rings. If there was an episode where Urkel lost his virginity to a strawberry flavored ring, I missed it.



You'd think for a celebrity tie-in, they'd at least make half an effort to actually "tie" it in to something. Even if they just connected the loops together, I'd buy that they were supposed to be Urkel's glasses.

In fact, C3PO's cereal would have been a better Urkel-O's -- look at 'em. Come to think of it, what the hell were C3P0's supposed to be anyway? His eyes? That there is some jedi bullshit.

Well, it's cereal time, and I'm gonna go eat me a big ol' bowl of 1991...
********** **********



I'm back, and I'm not exactly sure how to say this, but... THE CEREAL IS STILL GOOD! I swear to God.

I'm a little freaked out. Should I call the Pope? This is a miracle, right? I mean, I used to think the idea of suspended animation and cryogenics was pretty cool, but the hell with that. If I die, don't freeze my brain -- just bury me in a box of Urkel-O's. Apparently it has the ability to stop time.

And what's even more ridiculous is the milk I used was only 2 days past the expiration date, and it tasted funkier than the cereal. (Which, by the way, was only 4,380 days past its expiration date.)

My wife doesn't like it when I eat potentially life-threatening stuff. I don't know what her problem is. Maybe she's just afraid to raise our children alone. What a baby. When I told her that the cereal was still good, she was amazed for a moment and then she said, "Good. Now you can throw it away."

Throw it away?! She's a loon. I told her I'm putting it right back in the box so I can try eating it again in six years when it turns 20.

It looks like this episode of Steve, Don't Eat It has a happy ending. Although, I am glad Urkel signed the box "God Bless." I may need it in heaven tonight, after I die from strawberry-flavored maggots hatching in my rectum.