Diary of a Wimpy Kid Rodrick Rules

Sometimes you have a craving that only paper and glue can satiate.

That's why I suggest that you go to your vending machine mayor or magistrate and DEMAND, nay, IMPLORE WITH VIOLENCE that your local vending machine be stocked with copies of Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick RULES.

It's not just that DoaWK Colon RR is delicious, it's filling too! For a mere sixty three quarters, you can swallow page after page of life lessons. I learned about how not to be a douchebag. I learned that Rodrick, DOESN'T ACTUALLY rule. But his name is almondy tasting, it's like a warm Christmas morning full of chesnutts and dates and overlaughs at the stupid things your younger siblings are saying while your parents sell everything they bought you to build that extension with an upstairs bathroom FOR ONCE.

You could eat lobster bisque or Ryan Gosling, or a box of cinnamon life or whatever the fuck, but Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick RULES will satisfy even the emptiest belly. Remember that band Belly? No? Me neither.

Anyway, it's a sequel, and Jeff Kinney thinks it tastes even better than its predecessor. HA.

Vending Machine Lobster Bisque

During a long day of work where everything make you wish you were dead and no one will talk to you because you call them all "peasant", nothing hits the spot quite like vending machine lobster bisque.

Lobster bisque has been a snack treat since 540 BC when Judas burned some lobster shells and added some milk and shit or whatever the fuck and sour cream and really just a bunch of red onions and butter and served it to some of his friends.

They should really call it dairy bisque. Also, are eggs dairy? I don't think so. I associate dairy with cows, and I have yet to meet a cow that lays eggs. Godfuckingdamnit.

Anyway, back to the point: lobster bisque is great at any time of day, whether served in a discarded Flintstone's push pop tube or in the traditional manner, atop a day old blondie, it's a nutritous food the likes of which many people could only dream of.

So I say eat up, Judas. Serve your friends proudly, and don't let that crippling feeling of hatred and bitterness that you would literally swallow glass to dispel ruin your day!

Three Musketeers Truffle Crisp

Some Outbreakers recently tried the Three Musketeer's Truffle Crisp bar. They have noted the following things:

1) It has air in it so that rich people eat it.
2) Everyone is on fire.
3) The Marketing is fire-based and devastatingly poisonous.
4) Crispy(?) BUT NOT ENOUGH FOR SOME.
5) Jaundice.

Also, WHY ARE THERE FOUR OF THEM? And what the hell is wrong with Keifer Sutherland's hair?

The true origins of Three Musketeers Truffle Crisp will never be explained. Some say social scientist Arlo Guthrie stumbled upon a recipe in a boxcar in Detroit while searching for a fish bone for dinner. Damn if he didn't have cookie, nougat, chocolate and plastic packaging in his back pocket that he had used previously as kindling for the boxcar fires he warmed his hands upon.

A legend(?) was(?) born(declarative).

Whenever you eat a Three Musketeers Truffle Crisp bar, you appreciate Twix for what it is, sharp, pointy, jagged, sticky, like Alanis Morissette in 1995. Then you remember that Truffle Crisp is none of those things. It's airy, soft and lacking creativity, like Alanis Morissette in 2005 when she re-recorded Jagged Little Pill acoustically exclusively for Starbucks.

In short, no one cares.