"I hauled my purchase up to the counter. The cashier patiently scanned all of the cans. A woman in line behind me>"/>
"I hauled my purchase up to the counter. The cashier patiently scanned all of the cans. A woman in line behind me quickly took notice of my dreadful crop. 'You don't drink all of that,' she warned. 'That shit's been on the news. Don't let me see you on the news tomorrow.' I quickly assured her that I wasn't, in fact, going to drink all of the cans of Four Loko.
Then the cashier had to put his two cents in. 'Don't drink ANY of it,' he told me.
'Now wait a second,' I said, 'You just SOLD THAT SHIT TO ME.'
The cashier shrugged. I left. I threw the Four Loko onto the floor on the passenger side of my car and took off."
From "A Chemist's Descent Into Four Loko Madness," just one of our many, many Four Loko stories this week.
"Three bucks a can, give or take. And that's right in the sweet spot of a bunch of college freshmen who would normally be blowing all their disposable income on weed, burritos and World of Warcraft subscriptions."
Just a little taste of "Blackout In A Can: Four Loko By The Numbers," which attempts to answer the question: who in their right mind would drink this swill if given any choice at all?
"Now to me, this crosses a certain hazy, philosophical line between clever and creepy. It makes me think that Eleven Madison Park has some bespectacled nerd on staff, sitting in a darkened room somewhere full of cigarette smoke and the smell of old sweat and lamb, watching an entire wall of video monitors as he tracks every mention of the restaurant everywhere in the electronic universe. I see him hunched over a scratch pad, writing cryptic notes and passing them to the front-of-house staff, saying things like 'Winklebottom, prty of 2, 8:00 rez on Thrs. Hsbnd Larry enjoys motorsports and fucking his Russian secretary, Wife Loretta looking 4wrd to romantic dinner. Offer chmpgne & caviar/blini amuse.'"
From "Now, Possibly the Creepiest Use of Twitter by a Restaurant Ever," in which the Manhattan restaurant Eleven Madison Park Twitter-stalks its own customers and buys them lamb burgers.
"In the meantime, I'll just have to cool my drinks with the vibrator cubes."
The results of the Seattle Food Geek's "Clear Ice Fail #2," wherein he is still unable to make perfectly clear ice cubes.
"Everyone claims that dogs offer unconditional love, but there are conditions, all right: You wouldn't believe how ungrateful a dog can become after neglecting to feed it for a period as short as three weeks! Plus many breeds of dog are simply retarded: Komondor Dogs look like a janitor's mop; the pug looks like a Chihuahua that someone squeezed too tightly. And Chihuahuas, everyone knows, are Communist sympathizers.
Horses have fucked up teeth, and their majestic sexual prowess embarrasses and confuses many men. Hippos eat too much. Eagles, which while admittedly cool, are too easily killed by a shotgun blast to the face to rightfully be considered a fitting symbol of the USA."
The Surly Gourmand thinks all animals are losers. Also, they're all delicious. But still losers, as he discusses in his piece "It's Okay to Eat Animals Because They're Total Losers."
"On the night of November 27, 2000, Katherine Ortega from Newport News, VA found a fried chicken head in a box of McDonald's chicken wings. Ortega said she called McDonald's after finding the head and was told she could return the chicken for a refund or another box. But she declined (for obvious reasons). Ortega did contact a lawyer, but we're not sure if she ever filed any charges. We do know that she plans to cook at home from now on."
Just one of the "Top 7 Grossest Things Found In Food," a little pre-Halloween gross-out for those of you with strong stomachs and a sense of the absurd.
All of this (and plenty more) could be found right here on the Voracious blog during the past seven days. Now just think what we might come up with for next week...