Most recently, a British prophylactic manufacturer named Crown Jewels¹ has created royal wedding condoms, in special packaging commemorating the marriage of Prince William to Kate Middleton².

A "triumvirate" (that means 3) of these "lavishly lubed", "regally ribbed" heritage condoms sell for about $8 a box, and includes a disturbing portrait of the couple, "as they might appear on their wedding day".

According to the Crown Jewels press release, the product is "a unique way to remember this great British occasion" and "[a]ll at Crown Jewels have worked tirelessly to craft these heirloom quality love sheaths.

Tastelessness of this product aside, I never want to see the phrase "heirloom-quality love sheaths" again. Fortunately, Lydia Leith is making royal wedding barf bags, so our collective nausea can be contained in noble fashion.

Without question, however, the most disturbing aspect of these condoms is actually found in the fine print on the Crown Jewels page, which reads:

Crown Jewels Royal Wedding Souvenir Condoms are a novelty condom not suitable for contraception or protection against STDs.

What the hell? What the hell is that?!

Footnotes:

1. Slogan: "Condoms of Distinction"   ↩

2. A clever title for this post might have been "Lie Back and Think of England", except that Crown Jewels uses that as the page title on their own site.   ↩

Ortiz has long lobbied local grocers in Brooklyn to take Four Loko off their shelves…so New York's local NBC station basically said, "OK, Mr. Assemblyman, if Four Loko's so bad, why don't you drink as much of it as you can in one hour while we film it?", which makes no sense at all.

A few readers noted that in my write up, I didn't actually talk much about the effects Four Loko had on me. Ultimately, the most enduring aspect of it really was how godawful it tasted. I certainly did get drunk, quickly and cheaply. Worse, the stimulants hid the alcohol's effects to some extent, which is not terribly safe. There were no hallucinations or other crazy behavior however – the end result was just drunkenness, followed by sleep. Perhaps the most interesting aspect was that the caffeine didn't seem to do much in the long run.

Several states, including Massachusetts, have already banned the sale of the product. More recently, the FDA has laid the groundwork for a nationwide ban by warning the manufacturers of Four Loko and other alcoholic energy drinks that the combination of caffeine and alcohol is a violation of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act.

All is not lost, however, as Phusion has stated that they plan to remove the stimulants from Four Loko. When the reformulated product returns to shelves, buyers will again be able to purchase their disgusting beverage, albeit with no uppers. On the plus side, it will undoubtedly still be chock full o'alcohol and it will still be frighteningly cheap.

Until next week, thanks for reading One Foot Tsunami – the site that got Four Loko banned.

While deciding which flavor to drink for my act of stupidity, I found that Four Loko's lineup is cobbled together from real fruits, real drinks, and just made-up shit. The eight Four Loko "flavors" are Blue Raspberry, Cranberry Lemonade, Fruit Punch, Lemonade, Lemon Lime, Orange Blend, Uva (some sort of Brazilian grape), and Watermelon. After much contemplation, I came to the conclusion that they all sound dreadful.

In the end, I bought a can each of Blue Raspberry and Watermelon because that's what the liquor store had. While ringing up the purchase, the store owner glanced at the cans of Four Loko before stating "that's the closest I come to selling real poison". I couldn't make that up.

So on a recent Friday night, I stayed in to down a can of this bad decision juice as rapidly as possible. Responsible moron that I am, I had my friend Lena present as photographer/emergency caregiver, and her photos accompany this post.

At 10 PM, I took the can of Blue Raspberry Four Loko from my fridge. Despite being overcome with a deep sense of foreboding, I pressed on in the dual names of science and comedy. For the rest of the night, I went mano-a-cano with this:

Sure, it looks fun.

I stared down the can for a full two minutes before I finally built up the courage to open it. After popping the top, I sniffed its contents by wafting it in as one does with potentially dangerous chemicals. The odor was not completely repellant.

The taste was another matter entirely. When the first drop of Four Loko touched my tongue, I immediately regretted my decision to run this little test. Blue Raspberry definitely does not taste like raspberry. Hell, it doesn't even taste like anything blue, with the possible exception of 2000 Flushes. Put simply, Four Loko Blue Raspberry is abhorrent and I can only imagine that these cans are filled by a long assembly line of Smurfs vomiting.

Here's my reaction:

I assure you, this was not acting.

After sipping at it for a few minutes, I started to wonder if Four Loko is intentionally made to be so awful that it can't be chugged. I tried it as a shot, and while this was a passable way to choke it down, the can was much too voluminous for it to be practical. I also attempted to drink it without getting it on my tongue. This was not workable either.

I had no choice but to drudge my way through, rallying for big gulps every so often. Halfway through the can, I was still trying to determine what exactly this beverage tastes like, when it hit me – it tastes like regret. As far as drunkenness goes, whether it was the caffeine counteracting the alcohol or something else entirely, I felt nothing but self-loathing.

Finally, at 10:45 and after around 42 minutes of drinking, I finished the can of vile blue liquid. While drinking, my stomach was unhappy and my taste buds cried out for the sweet release of death. But in under three-quarters of an hour, I had downed the alcohol equivalent of four to six standard drinks.

The agony of victory.

While ringing up the Four Loko, the liquor store owner had also indicated that "the kids" often mix it with vodka and other hard liquors. This seems like a huge mistake, not least of all due to the obvious stupidity of mixing one extremely alcoholic drink with another. An even bigger problem is that adding any liquid to this is just going to spread out the unpleasantness. A greater volume will be left to drink, while the flavor won't be depleted at all. Kids, be smart about your drinking. As smart as you can be while drinking Four Loko, anyway.

Ultimately, while the price of Four Loko is low, the cost to your sense of self-worth will be high. Further, both your mouth and your stomach will rebel against you, before admitting defeat and crawling into a dimly-lit corner to quietly whimper until you stop bathing them with this sewage. I've made this mistake, so you don't have to.

Four Loko is an alcoholic energy drink, so we're already off to a great start right there, because why wouldn't you want to mix a downer like alcohol with an upper like caffeine? Simple math says that the two will cancel out and keep you at a safe median. Loko comes in "delicious" "flavors" like Blue Raspberry and Cranberry Lemonade, and a 23.5-ounce can will set you back less than $3. For your money, you'll get both six servings of alcohol and the caffeine of five cups of coffee, all in something you can probably consume in under 10 minutes. [See the update at the bottom of the page for more details. -Ed.]

That doesn't even sound like it should be legal, but for now, it is. At that price, anyone can get drunk off his ass, while maintaining the energy to stay up all night getting even drunker off his ass. Loko isn't just for the bum who needs to get stuff done though. It's also a big hit at college campuses, where cheap students are purchasing it with the change they find under their couch cushions.

Of course, the concoction is less popular with college administrators. Schools such as BU and Northeastern have issued warnings about it to their student bodies. Other colleges, including Central Washington University, Ramapo College, and the University of Rhode Island, have banned it outright. Judging by the empty shelves around here, however, these actions have only served to increase demand.

Phusion Projects, the company who makes Four Loko, is working to counteract this recent negative publicity. This excerpt from their "Four Facts" page, providing information about their cans, is quite revealing:

• Our cans feature seven different warnings about the alcohol content and the need for an ID for purchase.

• Our ABV warnings are in a font as large as the federal government will allow.

• We were the first caffeinated alcoholic beverage company to ad “WE ID” tags to our cans.

• Four Loko’s can colors are no brighter or more appealing than the blue, red, and green labels of established beer brands like Budweiser and Heineken.

That is some defensive writing, and only serves to make them look bad. For instance, the fact that the government limits how large you can make your ABV (Alcohol By Volume) "warnings" makes it clear that this text is actually boasting of a feature, not warning of a problem.

That said, I'm not sure how you defend a candy-flavored drink with a ridiculously high alcohol concentration which also contains caffeine that will mask the effects of alcohol consumption. There really is no safe way to drink anything but a small quantity of this stuff. Hopefully the founders are smart enough boozenessmen to save their profits now, because they'll need them once the first lawsuits roll in.

Judging by this gem from their FAQ page, however, I have my doubts:

Are people drinking Four because of its high alcohol content?

It’s really a matter of consumer choice. Our products are just a fraction of a wide array of beverage options. In fact, stores that sell our products also offer dozens of other beverage choices – from beer to wine to spirits. Consumption of Four products accounts for less than approximately 1% of total beer consumption nationwide.

Who dodges a question on their own Frequently Asked Questions page?

Update (November 17th, 2010): I checked the math on the statement from the first paragraph, which came from this post. At 12% alcohol and 23.5 fluid ounces, Four Loko has about 2.82 fluid ounces of alcohol, which seems to be closer to four or five "standard" drinks. The caffeine content is 260 mg, which appears to be closer to around 3 cups of coffee.

Also, as evidenced by this follow-up post, that ten-minute consumption estimate was overly optimistic.

During a recent trip to West Virginia, my friend Drew and I stopped by Phantom Fireworks, just over the border in Pennsylvania. Due to bizarre state regulations, it's legal to sell fireworks in Pennsylvania, but Pennsylvania residents may not purchase them. That means that Phantom is open only to out-of-state residents, so in addition to owning the prestigious fireworks.com domain, they have locations at the borders of New Jersey, Maryland, West Virginia, New York, and more.

In the United States, few things are as patriotic as blowing shit up. Indeed, fireworks share a place alongside mom and apple pie, and are enjoyed by Americans from sea to shining sea. However, having never been to a fireworks outlet before, I didn't really know what to expect. After walking by signs warning severely against smoking and passing a fairly rigorous ID check, we gained access to several dozen aisles of absurd explosives. Here are some of the most ridiculous.

Honestly, these are the worst firefighters ever.

A three wolf explosion – memetastic!

It's already a tank. It doesn't need a suffix.

I don't think you know how jets work.

Ok, I'm sure you don't know what Skylab was.

Warning: Do not attempt to drink fireworks.

I enjoy how this one rips off multiple beer logos simultaneously.

Oh god, Drew, no!

There's something inappropriate about using firecrackers in a salute to Abraham Lincoln, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

There were many more, but one post can only contain so many explosives. If you just can't get enough, be sure to watch Cabel's blog, as some believe his spirit will rise each July 4th to share another year of fireworks madness.

Update (July 5th, 2010): Cabel's spirit seems to have broken his earthly blog, but that didn't prevent a 2010 fireworks collection. It's good to know that you can still access Flickr from beyond the grave.

Footnotes:

1. Another theory is that he and his wife had a baby in the summer of 2009. Research thus far has been inconclusive.   ↩

Now, dozens of these snippets have been collected together in one great video. Enjoy!

In short, the As Seen On TV Hat is a hat (or visor!) with a shade attached to it. Insert a media player like an iPod or iPhone into the front of it, connect your headphones, and you can view your video in quiet, private comfort.

You know, when described that way, the As Seen On TV Hat doesn't sound so bad…

Ah. Yes.

Look at that thing! It's like something out of science-fiction. It would fit perfectly into a dystopian future where humanity is addicted to television¹, oblivious to the world around them.

What sort of features does The As Seen On TV Hat have? In addition to providing the choice between a hat or a visor, there's also the adjustable HD lens. This is more commonly known as a magnifying glass. And better yet-

No. No, I'm sorry, I have to stop. I simply can't waste any additional words trying to detail the stupidity. Instead, allow me to simply present some pictures from their commercial. This is how they recommend using the As Seen On TV Hat.

Avoid the wonders of nature!

Get noticed at the gym!

Laugh like a lunatic at the airport!

Or just wear the world's most ridiculous hat to the beach!

Maybe the vendors know exactly what they're doing. Perhaps they're trying to sell gag gifts or trick grandmothers into buying a worthless product for their iPod-loving gran-WAIT! Hang on a second!

Is this guy on their site using the As Seen On TV Hat while riding a real bike?

Ok, they're in on the joke.

Footnotes:

1. Ok, fine, "even more addicted to television".   ↩

The dough cones are shipped to Pinto daily from a Connecticut bakery, and each Pizzacone is made to order at the counter; you tell them what ingredients to add, and then it's cooked in the oven for five minutes.

The result, according to one early guinea pig, is as convenient as it is delicious.

Reports don't indicate that it's the case, but I can't help imagining that the middle of one of these is nothing but a lake of fire.

Update: I've just been pointed to this K!Pizzacone unboxing video, as well as the information that there are two sizes: K! and K!!. It's unclear how the hell one orders that.

Their history indicates that after over four decades as "United Dairy Farmers" ice cream, they introduced a new premium ice cream. They state that it was named Homemade "for its use of heavy levels of fresh condiments and low overrun". Because when I think 'homemade', I think "low overruns".

The site also states "the line was the result of two years of research and 32 different test formulations". I don't know about you, but when I'm perfecting a recipe at home, that's about what I go through. I wear a lab coat while doing it, and I hold focus groups with neighborhood folk.

In closing, allow me to simply present the New Oxford American Dictionary definition for 'homemade':

New York City and New York State are not known as the most sanitary places in the world, and the Hudson River has had plenty of problems with pollution. And yet here it is, New York Spring Water (pictures courtesy of Ally D.):

Most bottled water is fairly stupid, of course, but it's the marketing here which makes New York Spring Water truly ridiculous. In addition to the name, dig that catchy, incredibly defensive slogan:

It's clean. It's natural. We promise.

Such a slogan attempts to acknowledge the negative associations and overcome them with earnestness. Sadly, earnestness and New York City go together about as well as, well, cleanliness and New York City. Nevertheless, I suppose the slogan is better than what might have been expected out of New York. After all, they could have gone with "Wadya, scared?!" or even "Just shaddup and drink it already!".

You can take a gander at one I started myself and this Minor Tweaks search should prove illuminating as well. And by the way, Tom, I'm still waiting for my drugs.

Anyhow, yesterday, I wrote about the Durex Variety Bowl. It was pointed out to me that, sadly, the Amazon page for this ridiculous product had no reviews. I think it's our duty to rectify this. Since Minor Tweaks is on an extended hiatus, and I went to all the trouble of naming the practice, I'm borrowing the Amazon reviewbomb for my own site.

Are you up for it? If so, just visit the Durex Variety Bowl page, and leave a humorous review of some sort.

This preposterous purchase will give you 144 condoms, in several different varieties¹, all in one convenient candy bowl. A gross of condoms. Gross. It's quite a bargain though, as the Durex Variety Bowl costs just $29.99.

"But Paul", I hear my male readers whining, "I'm not some sort of man-whore. How will I use all of these?". To that I reply that perhaps you should become some sort of man-whore. Certainly any girl who sees this in your bedroom will assume as much anyway, so why not go with it? If she sticks around, you'll enjoy carnal pleasures and possibly earn some spendin' money while you're at it.

Honestly though, when a girl sees this on a guy's nightstand, won't she be horrified? Or perhaps even worse, how about when a guy sees it on a girl's nightstand? Hooray for safe sex and the cost savings of buying in bulk, but there are limits!

In spite of the incredible lasciviousness of this product, or possibly because of it, you may find it appealing. Perhaps you like a challenge. If you do decide to take the plunge, you're likely to find yourself in a race against the expiration dates on these prophylactics. My advice? Spring for the express shipping. Every second counts.

Footnotes:

1. According to Drugstore.com, they are:
      • Natural Feeling
      • Pleasure Max
      • Extra Sensitive
      • Her Sensation
   Who gets to name these things? That seems like a sweet gig.   ↩

I'm not much for Tiger Woods jokes (they're so 2009), but I find myself imagining what will be said in the upcoming review meeting for this ad campaign.

• "We know what it takes to be a Tiger?" What's that exactly, bulk purchases of condoms?

• You guys do know that '>' isn't actually an accent mark in any language, right?

• Sometimes you get the gator, and sometimes the gator gets you, I guess.

• Why does our list of services start with a bullet-point?

• Man, Elin is scary without her make-up!

It's tough to believe this is real, but it was brought to me direct from Indonesia, so I can vouch for it. Heck, they've got a website and everything. Their site will even teach you that "Manjakani" isn't Indonesian slang for "penis" (yet), but is actually a natural extract that tightens erectile tissue layers.

And geez, did you really think it was called a "penis condom"?

That name just kills me though. Is this a niche product? Condoms for virgins? Or condoms made exclusively for intercourse with virgins? Either way, I think I've got a slogan for them:

Virgin: Not for long!