You don’t deserve to be here, Track 2
So I was cruising through a strip mall parking lot on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, blasting Streisand’s Yentl soundtrack (like always), when I rolled up to this pimped out, chintzy rice burner and just had to snap a photo with my cellular telephone:
I have no idea if such license plate placement is legal or not, nor do I really care. But the fact that its owner (known in the douchebag world as a “ricer”) spent half the price of that car on a new trunk panel custom cut (yes, the metal is cut out specifically for this purpose) to mount a license plate at a cockeyed angle, is reason enough for my contempt.
Forget about the godawful spoiler, silver spray-paint job and window tinting so dark you can’t hardly see out of it. That license plate is total bullshit. And by extension, the ricer who owns it is imbued with dumbassery.
Oh, did I mention this was shot in Louisville, Colorado? The same crime-free, diversity-free, sunshine-lollipops-and-rainbow-infested Boulder suburb recently voted America’s #1 Small Town to Live in? Just in case a gang fight breaks out (or far more likely in Louisville, a ballroom dance fight), you got the ride to represent, playa.
P.S. Apologies for the shoddy, unfocused phone picture. It was raining, I didn’t want to sketch anyone out by taking too many pictures in a parking lot, and Yentl had me blubbering like a paddled schoolgirl by that point.
P.P.S. The term “rice burner” is not a racist comment, so get over your PC bullshit. It’s commonly accepted in the mod car world. Personally, I think racism is the peak of ignorance. I was going for the funniest term, and “rice burner” is easily it. Back off.
Moving on to the next example insulting humanity with its very existence, we arrive at the Fruit Roll-Up. I loved these things as a kid. No bag lunch was complete without a Fruit Roll-Up. But, like several other cherished childhood and adolescent victuals (e.g., Boston Market; used to crave it, almost inedible now), nothing but disappointment upon revisiting. Fruit Roll-Ups taste nothing like fruit. More like plastic than anything else. They smack of artificiality. Were they more natural as a kid? If not, what the hell was I thinking? Just look at the ingredients and box:
It’s nice to see “pears from concentrate” as the first ingredient, until you read the rest of the list and realize it’s the only fruit on there. Not to mention, it’s a box of strawberry Fruit Roll-Ups (“naturally flavored,” of course. What’s the difference between natural and artificial flavorings, you pry? QUICK TANGENT OF KNOWLEDGE: The distinction comes from the source of these identical chemicals. Both artificial and natural flavors are made by “flavorists” in a lab, by blending either “natural” chemicals or “synthetic” chemicals to create flavorings. Gary Reineccius, professor in the Department of Food Science and Nutrition at the University of Minnesota, says that the difference “may be likened to saying that an apple sold in a gas station is artificial and one sold from a fruit stand is natural.” In fact, he says, “Artificial flavorings are simpler in composition and potentially safer because only safety-tested components are utilized.” Terrific).
You know, I’ve always been mildly interested in how we attribute synthetic smells and tastes (both naturally and artificially flavored) to objects when they often smell and taste nothing like the real thing (I mean, how many watermelons taste like Jolly Rancher and blueberries like Hubba Bubba). We’re to the point that we actually gauge taste of a flavored candy or snack based not upon how the real food tastes, but rather upon how close it tastes to the chemical flavor we’re used to associating with sour apple, banana, grape or say, strawberry from pear concentrate. Messed up, no?
Getting back to the reprehensible Fruit Roll-Up, let’s briefly gaze upon its messaging beyond the packaging:
Money? Stacks and rolls and a safe full of mo’ money, and a pimp ring that says it all. Nothing could be healthier than teaching the youth of today about thuggery and capitalism whilst gobbling down some high fructose tape. You don’t deserve to be here, Fruit Roll-Up.
And finally there’s this nut-crunching bag of chips:
What’s up with the hooded unitards w/ footies those retarded illustrations are wearing? What does this have to do with chips? And why is the non-Asian-flesh-colored dude in yellow so ecstatic that his balls are being stomped out of existence? Unconscionable in any culture.