Making Flippy Floppy

Swiffer Wet Jet I was so excited to try out the Swiffer Wet Jet yesterday. At work we have a grody old sponge mop with a pull-and-wring contraption combined with some 20-year-old Industrial Mystery floor cleaner. It really just smears mud around, and people come in and prance all over it as soon as I'm done. So, I was stoked when I got clearance to use the company credit card for the extravagance of Swiver Wet Jet technology. I didn't blink once when the cashier rang it up for $24.99 and even 2 refils at $7.99 each. At work, I delicately pulled all the parts out and laid them on the counter next to the "user's guide." Step 2: insert 4 'AA' batteries into base mechanism and snap closed. Batteries!? Somehow this device needed that much battery power to run the little squirt-u-lator mechanism. I frantically began digging around various drawers and was able to unearth exactly one sad old battery from the '80s. Disappointedly, I put the Swiffer away in the broom closet. I made a mental note to pick up some cheapo batteries before my next shift. Today, I was almost at work and I remembered: the damn batteries! I was not going to go another day without trying out this glorified purple plastic mop. I raced into the Chevron and paid nearly $5 for four 'AA's. Five fucking dollars for a couple of cheap batteries! Clearly, the terrorists are winning. Anyway, I didn't really care since my brain was in a narcotic Swiffer haze at that point and I just had to get them. Later, at work I put the batteries in the machine and waited for the place to clear out so I could get a good shot. I pressed the white button for the recommended three seconds and the squirted made an audible, satsfying whirr. The Swiffer Wet Jet is light and easy, cool and breezy. The scent that rose to my nose was fresh, yet fruity - slightly tropical. The dull brown tiles suddenly sparkled in the wake of the Pampers-like cleaning pad. This product is truly a back-saving merry-making delight, and was worth the overnight wait. I did what I imagined so many others doing upon their invocation into the Swiffer cult: I gathered every crusty mop in the building and tossed them right into the dumpster. Au revoir! American Idol Orajel Toothpaste, Green Apple Ah yes, American Idol and Orajel. They go together like...well...they don't really go together at all, you wouldn't think. But here they are married together in the form of a gooey green apple flavored tooth gel. This stuff reminds me of that liquid candy that's just pure high-fructose sugar syrup mixed with ungodly flavorings. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what it is. Imagine brushing your teeth with an extremely sour liquid sugar and you've got the idea. Not bad, really. I wouldn't use this product if you are looking for the classic, practical qualities usually found in a toothpaste i.e. clean teeth, fresh breath, cavity control. But really, who needs all that when you can just make uncontollable sour faces instead. Soon, when your teeth start rotting out and your breath smells like an apple head doll's ass, you won't have any friends left to impress with minty freshness anyway. How does TV's popular American Idol show tie into this product? Isn't it obvious? (Also available in Watermelon flavor.) Diet Pepsi Jazz - Strawberries-n-Cream Maybe I'm dating myself a bit here, but I remember a wonderful and refreshing product called "Pepsi Light" that came in a light blue can and had a nice lemon taste to it. It was a lot different than today's weak version, "Pepsi Twist." The lemon flavor was strong and hit hard. It was a wild idea at the time too, to combine such odd flavors together like that. Years later, much older and jaded by pointless consumerism and marketing, I barely can work up a yawn when Pepsi announces a new flavor. I have seen blue Pepsi and clear Pepsi, Pepsi One and Holiday Spice Pepsi, every combination of diet, calorie-free, caffeine-free, flavor-free madness that you could even dream up. It was only a matter of time before they started dabbling in berry flavors. In apparent attempt to "Jazz" up boring old diet Pepsi, someone had the idea to throw some Strawberry flavoring up in there, but not enough to really taste, just enough to create a tease and leave the consumer with a tragic Splenda-induced aftertaste. The creaminess so temptingly implied in the name was nowhere to be found in the actual product. In fact, the taste is almost the exact opposite of creamy. It's bitter and acidic, harshly overcarbonated, weak on the flavor side, and just plain nasty. Other flavors in the series are Black Cherry French Vanilla and Lime Berry. My recommendation: skip the Pepsi Jazz line of products entirely and do like we did in high school: dissolve a bag of Skittles in a can of Pepsi. The flavor is much better, the sugar rush hits a lot harder, and the act of making such a concoction is fun. Bottoms up!