RuPaul's Drag Race All Stars season 3 recaps

The shadiest Drag Race recaps on the web. Get ready to death drop, queens!

RuPaul's Drag Race recaps

YASS, HUNTIES! Seasons 6, 7, 8 and a bit of 9 recapped for your reading pleasure. Let's get sickening!

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Incredible Inedibles: Pocari Sweat

I love Asian supermarkets. Apart from having completely awesome items unavailable anywhere else (Yan Yan, anyone?), they fulfil two of my basic entertainment needs when I'm out food shopping: Crazy foods and mental packaging.

There are dried up things that look like mummified testicles, dried up fish that may or may not have been run over several times by a B-double truck, lollies that look like fireworks and lots of products involving "haw".

That's why it was no surprise to see a bottle of sweat in the fridge at my local.


Remember those vomit-inducing ads for Gatorade that sent you running to the basin with the memorable line "Puts back in what the sweat takes out"? Well Taiwanese beverage company POCARI's taken it one step further, presumably to eliminate any confusion.

And the great thing is, it even LOOKS like sweat!

Mmm, milky.

Lord knows, when I'm wiping the sweat from my brow after my morning workout the first thing I want to do is wring out my towel into a glass and have a nice, long drink. Well, now Pocari's done the hard work for me! Thanks, Pocari!

I'd like to think the Pocari factory is like a hotted-up version of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, with bar heaters filling every wall and employees forced to wear polar fleece 365 days a year while large men with hair dryers stand over them and force them to drip into buckets. This would then be chilled and distilled before being mixed with a delightful lemony flavour and poured into bottles. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "Asian sweatshop", doesn't it?

It actually took me several months to get up the courage to try this "ion supply drink" - I bought it in a fit of childish glee, took it home, put it in the fridge and promptly forgot all about it. Until recently, that is, when a friend stayed over after a big night and accidentally guzzled half of it in a dazed, drunk and dehydrated state at 3 o'clock in the morning. "That water tastes like shit," she announced in the morning. "Sweat, actually," was my reply, which was followed by several minutes of copious vomiting on her part.

And so, the moment of truth. What DOES sweat taste like?

Not bad, actually. Anticlimatic, I know, but it's really rather good. If you can get over the name and appearance, that is - there is a REASON Gatorade adds food dye to this stuff.

It smells and tastes a bit like watered down orange and lemon cordial, and when it's chilled and poured over ice it actually comes close to being delicious. Yes, I said delicious. This could be a first for Incredible Inedibles - previous experiments have described foods as "disappointing", "dodgy" and "death in a bowl", so I think "delicious" is a new zenith (not to mention another adjective beginning with D).

Coming soon to an Asian supermarket near you - Pocari Blood and Pocari Tears. Collect the whole set!

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Incredible Inedibles: Lucky Charms

Ever since I was blacklisted by Australian customs after my trip to Vietnam earlier this year (you really should declare wooden items, kiddies) I have made it my mission to fly home as much contraband from around the globe as possible without being fined and/or thrown in jail. My usual tactic is to act stupid and declare something completely innocuous ("I've just got these dirty socks - are they ok? It is FOREIGN dirt...") in the hope of distracting the customs officials while all my precious seeds, berries and wooden sculptures go undetected through the scanner.

From my last trip to the USA I managed to bring home a small box of Lucky Charms - genUine American cereal (the kind they eat on sitcoms!) - and was most disappointed when customs gave not a shit about it. Well, as disappointed as you can be for not being fined and arrested. I have now realised that this because Lucky Charms is not technically food.

Why the hell is he so bloody happy?

Manufactured by General Mills, the box promises "frosted toasted oat cereal with marshmallows". Another way to describe it would be "nuclear coloured sugary hell". This shit looks like it has a half life of 10,000 years.

Chernobyl Charms.

Just quietly, before I get into eating this crap for your reading pleasure - what the HELL is the deal with Americans and marshmallows? They have them in mashed sweet potato for Thanksgiving, in nuclear chicken form for Easter, and seem to enjoy torturing themselves all year round with Marshmallow fluff... I mean, GET OVER IT. Given George W's apparent love of the stuff I wouldn't be at all surprised to know that he invaded Iraq to search for Weapons of Marshmallow Destruction. "Marshmallows are a sacred right of the Amurrcan people. We will not allow them to be destroyed by terrists. THEY'RE AFTER ME LUCKY CHARMS!"

Despite the distinctly pagan iconography of the cereal's mascot, Lucky the Leprechaun, not to mention the whole idea of eating this much sugar at breakfast in the first place (sounds un-Christian to me, anyway) I also wouldn't be surprised to find out that George W was using Lucky Charms as some sort of nationwide Christian mind control device. Sound crazy?

No, it's not the new Playstation controller.

What's this then? Could it be A CHRISTMAS TREE, A FISH AND A CROSS? I THINK IT COULD. That's right - General Mills (if that IS his real name) is pumping kids full of sugary Christian symbols every morning so they'll support the war on terror, keep abortion illegal and get ADD and variants thereof. Talk about crafty.

And so I pour my milk, grab my spoon and throw myself into a bowl of multicoloured pain...

As soon as the milk hits the bowl the cereal goes to work on sucking the health and nutrition out of it, turning it a bizarre shade of grey. I close my eyes and think of Weetbix... but actually, it's not that bad. It reminds me of Nutrigrain, but without all the healthy ironman references. It's like - if you eat Nutrigrain you can be a surf-lifesaving muscle man, but if you eat Lucky Charms you can be a paranoid dwarf in a funny hat who's always worried about getting his possessions stolen! You choose! The marshmallow pieces have an unpleasant texture, rather like pieces of chalk covered in pond slime. They remind me of death. Death in a bowl. By bowl's end I want to join them. The grey milk and the technicolour slimy-chalk pieces are sloshing in my stomach and I know the true meaning of depression.

I vow to become bulimic by day's end.