Seen for sale in the deli downstairs: Cougar Energy – No Calories. No Carbs. No Sugar. Just Cocaine. Guaranteed to make you roar. Energy for women
OK, I made that cocaine part up. But rest of it is for real, yo. Who comes up with this stuff? Cougar Energy? Seriously?
And on related, more interesting note, who buys it? Can’t you just see a 45 year old cougar wannabe picking up a bottle at lunch before an afternoon rendezvous with Fabio the 23 year old pool boy, downing it before entering the cabana, only to kick the bucket midway through the hot, sweaty act because her body couldn’t handle the taurine or guara or Noni or whatever else they put in it as Fabio quietly sneaks out the back door and begins the long, arduous journey home to Nicaragua by swimming from oil platform to oil platform during a hurricane? That’s a Michael Bay movie I’d go see. Or a John Grisham book I’d read.
Also tangentially related: overheard at a fantasy football draft Wednesday night: Sarah Palin is definitely a VPILF (pronounced exactly like it’s spelled). Genius. I’m thinking of making a t-shirt at CafePress with that on it. I[m positive people would buy it.
Read in Bill Simmons column this week: “Taking the Browns to the Super Bowl” replaces “Backing the brown Cadillac out of the garage” as fave euphemism for doing a number 2. Hey, it’s football season baby.