Ohhh, so that's what a merkin is!

Hey ladies!

Have you ever wanted to fuck a fox? And I mean an actual fox, from like a forest or whatever, but you didn’t quite have the lady-balls to get out there and risk a brush with poison ivy to do it? Well, you’re in luck, because this chick named Cindy Barshop, who is featured on one of those soul-sucking, Real Housewives train-wrecks-of-a-reality-show, has a plan to turn your beaver area into a PETA nightmare. It’s called the Foxy Bikini, in which post-wax, a pubic wig, or merkin (which was already a thing, often used in the filming of 70′s movies)is applied to your Downtown Brown. It’s just close enough to sexing a real fox without all that messy bestiality nonsense. Besides, the fox is dead. And it’s just its fur. So, totally different.

Foxes not your type? No worries there either, bitches, because Barshop sexy up your lady area with other types of natural, animal parts. How do you feel about feathers? This rainbow-colored “vaginal headdress” is just the thing! And the best part is, only you and your bulging, furry crotch will know what lies beneath.

Go out and get you some. I suggest pairing the Foxy with some plaid. And the Carnivale-esque feather one with a stripper pole. Plus, according to TMZ, a fox buffer will set you back roughly $225. Which is a hell of a lot less expensive than having to deal with a half-human, half fox “Oops” baby.

File this under holy shit you have to be kidding me.

The TSA keeps track of all the money people leave behind at security checkpoints and in 2010 the collective total of all those coins reached $409,085.56. It was not disclosed at press time if this number was before or after the Coinstar $.09/dollar fee came out.

Seriously though: Holy shit you have to be kidding me.

JFK International Airport in New York City was the biggest contributor, offering a whopping $47,000 in loose change over a 365-day stretch.

Maybe it’s because I’m a bit thrifty, but I would never just leave my change in the little plastic bowl. I mean, you’re already reaching in there to retrieve your keys and your phone, so why would you leave your coins behind? And how could more than $400k in change be left behind? That’s just insane. In this economy?

It has yet to be determined where the money should go but the top two potential destinations are a giant donation to the USO or back into the TSA budget. Personally I’m hoping for the former because the TSA doen’t need 400 more thousand in their “how can we find ways to brush our hands against people’s nipples in the name of security” budget.

In the meantime though just pick up your change. Stop giving your money away.

From the makers of your toaster...

Dear America,

This is why you’re fat. Oh, and also poor. In my own not-humble-at-all opinion, if you can’t bother to shake up a fucking martini yourself, you don’t deserve one. Or drink the damn thing stirred, because that’s the manly way to order a martini anyway. What are you, some sort of pussy like James Bond!? I don’t care if it’s just $39! UGH–just go ahead and get your Groupon on; you should be ashamed of yourself. All 190 of you (at the time of this posting).
Kisses,

Breadwinner

P.S.: Shame on you, Waring Pro.
P.P.S.: Mmmm. That felt good. 

Recently a photo from an Osaka-based department store has been circulating around the Web. In the photo, well, here just look for yourself:

It’s a fuckin’ sale! Yes! I can only assume this store already had a freakin’ sale so it was time to turn up the heat a little bit.

I am a little thrown off by the fact that this fuckin’ sale is only good for 20% off everything though. You’d think a fuckin’ sale would be a bigger deal than just a fifth off your final bill but I’m no expert on what makes a fuckin’ sale a fuckin’ sale.

I look forward to their upcoming fuck your mother sale and their upcoming bestiality is okay by me sale. Also the month long fuckathon sales event will be fantastic

Yay cussing!

The movies are a magical place.

You sit down, look up at the big screen and, during an ideal experience, get transported to another world. Whether it’s a Star Wars-ian sci-fi landscape or the comfortable confines of a romantic comedy, the transformative qualities of movies are amazing.

That is, unless you have someone in the theatre distracting you.

For example, earlier this week in a movie theatre in Chicago, a man bought a ticket to see a 4pm showing of Alvin and the Chipmunks 3: Chipwrecked.

This was his first mistake.

After that the man, Edward Brown (pictured below in full orthodontic wet dream mode), decided it would be best to sit in the front row. That was mistake #2.

And then, finally, he decided to strip off all of his clothes and give all of his fellow theatre inhabitants a show.

Three mistakes and you’re out.

The man was quickly ushered out of the theatre and arrested. He later claimed that a woman who worked at the theatre promised him “drugs and sex” if he went in and waited for her in the nude in the front row. This druggy, sexy lady was never found though, which is really surprising.

The worst part of the whole thing is that this guy did it during Chipwrecked, which is probably one of the top 3 movies of the year. I mean, come on dude, you couldn’t go and disturb a shitty movie like War Horse or We Bought a Zoo with your peep show antics? Have some respect.

In a related story, I once saw a showing of A Serious Man in which a (presumably) homeless man attempted to masturbate in the seat directly behind me.

BUT, we’ll save that for another time.

It’s tax season. I get that.

What I don’t get is why every time I log into my yahoo email I see this little old lady gesturing towards me. The ad really raises some questions for me. Like:

• Who is this woman?
• Is she some sort of tax expert?
• Is she related to Dr. Ruth?
• Is she giving me a thumbs up?
• Where did she get that incredible shirt?
• Is “EVERYONE” underlined to imply that this service is for everyone and anyone, including weird, old over-gesturers like this broad?
• What does she have to do with me getting my max refund?

All in all, I just don’t get it. These sort of ads are everywhere on the Internet, but I usually don’t see them with such a huge placement. Is this really the best TaxACT could do? Were there no graphic design students available? Did no one at TaxACT headquarters have a nephew who knew his way around “the photoshopper”?

So many questions without answers. At least I know one thing:

I won’t be using TaxACT to prepare my taxes this year.

–

Previously on WTF is going on in this [BLANK] ad?:

• Newport

I know we’ve told you to go to Denny’s before. For free shit. For cheap shit. For people-watching. But now we’re changing our tune for sure. Because apparently there is danger hiding inside a Denny’s near you.

Grand Slam Bam Bang.

This man was shot during a violent rampage in a Denny’s in Kent, Washington four years ago.  And today, that man is a really, really rich quadriplegic. A court just ordered Denny’s to pay him $47 million for not protecting him while he ordered his Grand Slam breakfast at 2 a.m.

The lawyer’s argument includes a list of violent incidents at many Denny’s across the country, with a spike at “bar time” and on the weekends. That Denny’s didn’t do enough to protect its customers, especially Mr. Toelainuh. So what we can conclude is that A) Denny’s is a dangerous place to be (and not just for your stomach anymore), and B) drunk people cannot be trusted with the freedom to enter a Denny’s. The whole thing is gross.

Plus, there’s obviously a “Guns don’t kill people, Grand Slams kill people” joke in there somewhere. Also gross.

Be prepared to start seeing metal detectors in your favorite shitty restos, and, yes, I’m thinking prices will go up to support the cost of these increases in security. And all you wanted was some pancakes. Sorry, bro.

So sure, there is money to be made from dining at Denny’s, but it is NOT worth it. If you want crappy food and fantastic people-watching, we recommend you head to Hooters instead.

Oh, Taco Bell. You guys are so exciting.

A few days ago I posted an article about how Taco Bell was being sued for calling their beef beef, when in fact, according to the lawsuit, it was so low on real meat it had no right to call itself that.

In the days that have followed Taco Bell has gone on the attack. Big time. Check it out:

First their president, Greg Creed (CREED? WHAT?!?!), came out with a brief statement (which has since grown more grandiose) denouncing the claims in the lawsuit. Then Taco Bell took things up a notch and rolled out an entire ad campaign around it.

Check it out:

Pretty extensive, right? And Mr. Creed has a youtube video, too. Check that out:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ah05FEWcJWM

So they’re countering an Alabama-based lawsuit and the Internet flame-up it created with a campaign that centers on honesty and transparency. Greg Creed wants to throw another shrimp on the barbie tell us everything that’s in Taco Bell’s delicious beef. How exciting is that?

Yeah… I’m still not sold on any of it and I still puked in the street mere hours after eating Taco Bell a few months back.

So I’ve got an exciting new theory about this whole thing.

I think the entire thing is bogus. I think Taco Bell and Beasley Allen (that’s the law firm that is suing them) are working together to bring a monstrous amount of media attention to the Taco Bell brand.

It’s sort of like when Gap rolled out their new logo and everyone hated it and then they rolled out their old logo again and said “oops!” At that time there were some theories that the entire thing was fabricated by Gap to bring some of that all-powerful viral Internet attention to their brand.

And I think this is like that.

And just to further end my post on a “Taco Bell kind of sucks” note, check this out:

Mmmmm… delicious.

This is an exciting story so I’m going to launch right into it.

I’m so proud of Alabama, and I don’t feel that way very often.

A law firm in Montgomery, Alabama called Beasley Allen recently filed a lawsuit against fast food giant Taco Bell claiming that the beef in their products is not technically beef at all. The lawsuit claims that the beef in your fourth meal Chalupa is only 36% ground beef, which falls under the USDA beef requirement of 40%.

Now, before I move on, I want that to sink in. The USDA has created a standard for what qualifies as “real meat” in our country and that standard is a paltry (not poultry) 40%. And according to some brave litigators in Bama, Taco Bell is somehow missing this extremely low mark.

It’s like Taco Bell is a nine-foot-tall dude who can’t dunk. It’s ridiculous.

Beasley Allen goes on in their lawsuit to say that the beef is not meat at all but should actually be called “taco meat filling” instead. The law firm is setting out to either force Taco Bell to increase their beefishness levels or stop dropping the B word when describing their offerings.

Obviously, Taco Bell is not cool with this because who wants to eat something called the “Seasoned Taco Meat Filling Grilled Stuft (their spelling, not mine) Burrito”? Well, actually I’m sure some people would still eat it.

We do live in a post-Double Down world after all.

My recent history with Taco Bell.

This is as good a time as any to recount my most recent Taco Bell visit, and the events that followed it.

Let me warn my readers that if you have a weak stomach you may want to close this window now. If you’re not a little bitch, however, then read on.

A few months ago, on the day before my birthday, I decided to grab some Taco Bell for dinner. I was on my way to  meet some friends and I wanted to get a quick meal in me before the night kicked off. I ordered a Mexican Pizza and two Taco Supremes (or would that be Tacos Supreme?). All three of these items contained a hearty amount of …uhhhh… beef. I ate them and felt satisfied.

But then the night moved forward.

And as it did I noticed some discomfort in my tummy. The Taco Bell didn’t seem to be digesting. Instead it felt as though it were growing steadily. Imagine eating a football whole. That’s what it felt like.

A few hours went by and my health continued to plummet. Finally, I said goodbye to my friends and switched my focus to getting home and sleeping off whatever Taco Bell demons I had absorbed. I got in my car and set a course for my humble abode.

Unfortunately, the taco meat filling in my stomach had other plans.

About five minutes after leaving my friends the pain in my gut became so great that I had to pull over for fear that I might pass out. As soon as I pulled the car over and turned it off my body took that as a cue to evacuate all of the contents of my stomach. Thankfully, the first burst was a dry heave. This gave me ample time to swing the door open and get out.

That’s when I ruined my shoes.

I don’t think I need to get into the details so I’ll just say that I puked. A lot. And after puking I felt magically better. It was as though I had swallowed some poison and HAD to get it out of my body by any means necessary to continue living.

My personal opinion since then has been that Taco Bell equals poison. So today, when two friends sent me a link to this story I knew I had to report on it. It was my duty, as both a citizen journalist AND a fake beef consumption victim.

Oh, and one final fun note about this tale: When I got back into my car, sporting vomit soaked white Vans (Mmmmm…) and uber-halitosis I looked over at the clock and it read 12:04.

Vomiting on the side of the road was the first thing I had done on my birthday.

So, what now?

Beasley Allen is holding strong on their lawsuit, despite threats from Taco Bell of a countersuit. And since this story hit the Web today they are bound to get A LOT more attention now than they may have ever bargained for.

But I want to go beyond the lawsuit. I want to know what’s actually in this taco meat filling.

Taco Bell claims that in addition to their seasoned beef they use food “extenders” like water, Isolated Oat Product, wheat oats, maltodrextrin, soy lecithin, anti-dusting agent, autolyzed yeast extract, modified corn starch, sodium phosphate and silicon dioxide.

Doesn’t that just make your stomach growl?

But all of those extenders are in there in addition to a beef percentage Taco Bell claims is at 40%. But what if it’s actually at 36%, as the lawsuit claims?

What the hell is that 4%?

Here are my official guesses:

• Styrofoam BBs
• Asbestos
• Shredded pieces of marketing and/or creative briefs (cause there’s no way the advertising agencies that put out shit like THIS ever used either)
• Horse feces
• Minced bits of unsold Gorditas from the previous week
• Dog
• Mexican cartel murder victims (where do you think they all disappear to? Think about it.)

I invite you to enter your own guesses in the comments below. And please don’t eat at Taco Bell. Smoke a cigarette instead. You just might live longer, and you’ll vomit less.

So I’ve been out of the blogging game for a while and I’m a little rusty. I’ll admit it.

So, like a professional baseball player taking some at-bats in the minors, I too am easing my way back by taking on some lesser competition. And when I say lesser competition, I of course mean Creed.

Good old Creed. I’ve pooped on them so often in this blog’s (semi)illustrous history that it just feels right to end my laziness-fueled hiatus by pooping on them once again.

So what’s the story, then? What has Creed done this time?

Well, nothing.

Let’s get into it.

Norway is the happiest place on Earth, unless wolves are chasing you.

Our story starts with 13-year-old Walter Eikrem. Little Walter was walking home one day in the Norwegian town of Rakkestad when some wolves happened upon him. These wolves wanted human blood and were not going to stop until they cracked the top off of a man-sized, blood filled juice box.

But young Wally didn’t panic when he saw the wolves. Oh no. Instead he took out his smart phone, unplugged his headphones and blasted the Creed song “Overcome” as loud as possible in the direction of the wolf pack. The wolves listened for a second before they “turned around and simply trotted away.”

So what does this mean?

It means a lot of things.

It means that:

• Walter Eikrem has terrible taste in music.
• Wolves have good taste in music.
• Creed is relevant yet again.
• Creed is relevant yet again because even wolves don’t want to be in the same vicinity as their shitty music.
• There is a good chance that somewhere right now a pitch meeting for a Creed vs. Wild-type show is taking place. Imagine Creed front man Scott Stapp yelling in the face of ferocious animal after ferocious animal until finally he comes across a deaf one that rips his larynx out during prime time on Spike TV. That would be solid gold. Seriously.
• Despite being named the happiest country on Earth, Norway is definitely not the most culturally advanced.
• Nickelback is going to be HUGE in Norway in about two years.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, below is a video (with lyrics!) for the wolf-repelling Creed song. Give it a listen.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShBiBub-_UE

The wolves heard lyrics like “I’m entitled to overcome!!!!!” and “Say goodbye with no sympathy!!!!!” and went home to their sweet wolf cave homes to try their paws at becoming songwriters. Because if this vile, lowest common denominator yuck can be professionally produced and released whatever they can bark out is bound to be an improvement.

And with the words “vile” and “yuck” brought together in one sentence to describe Creed I will conclude this first minor league assignment.

It’s good to be back.

Oh, and fuck you, Creed.

Just for the sake of history, here’s some of my past articles about Creed:

• Scott Stapp is destroying America
• WASTE OF MONEY: 75-Cent Creed Concert Tickets
• WASTE OF MONEY: Creed Concert Tickets
• WASTE OF MONEY: Creed’s New Album

If you weren’t paying attention on this obviously slow news day, you might not have noticed that everyone is FREAKING OUT on the interwebs. What about? Well, here’s my take:

Dude with snake. Huh.

There’s this new astrological sign, basically. It’s called Ophiuchus. (Which may or may not rhyme with ridiculous.) Except it’s apparently not new at all, we all just noticed its existence today, thanks to The Huffington Post and NBC. And the addition of this “Ophiuchus” or Dude with Snake has plunged the whole solar-interplanetary-constellation-world-universe into a complete state of flux. It sounds familiar; like a plot line from Battlestar Galactica. Except instead of being compelled to constantly watch episodes on Netflix without stopping until we’ve seen the entire series, nobody will care about this Ophiuchus crap in, I’m guessing, 72 hours. If that.

I’m likening the situation to when my childhood phone number changed area codes. I thought I was living somewhere, and it turns out I was on the outskirts. That little change didn’t matter, but it felt kinda weird. But people are acting like everything they ever knew was a lie. We’re talking about hippies, chick magazines and pickup lines, mostly. Am I right?! Who else uses horoscope signs?

The rumors

One theory suggests this is just a plot for astrologers (who already prey on the weak, as far as I’m concerned) to sell more books,

Yeah, I don't really know the difference.

readings, conventions, cards, hemp-based clothing, incense, crystals or whatever they use to work their magic. In. This. Economy.

Another theory is that it’s those bastards who took away Pluto who are behind this insanity. We were just getting over Pluto not being a planet and now this? DAMN YOU NEIL DeGRASSE TYSON!!!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3DfwFZZXDQ

FML

And lastly, what the hell am I going to do with all those damn Taurus shirts, necklaces, bumper stickers and tattoos that I have boasting that I’m freaking stubborn and telling everyone I know that they should just freaking deal with it?? Oh yeah, I don’t have any of those things. But some people do, and now they’re going to have to buy them all over again. Cha-ching. Again, in this economy.

Let’s get serious.

Well, I say we beat these star-crossed bastards at their own game. Let’s revolt against astrology. You were born when you were born and maybe it has nothing to do with who you are or how you act. Did being a Taurus shape who I am, or was it just being told I was a Taurus create a self-fulfilling prophecy for my life? Probably neither, but let’s just chuck the whole thing altogether. Let’s just be who we are, act how we want to act, date who we want to date and leave the stars and planets and constellations out of it.

Who’s the hippie now?

Breadwinner is a Taurus Aries who doesn’t like long walks on the beach. Because then she has to walk all the way back. What.