Gross Anatomy

Alert: Adult themes, juvenile language.

Every once in a while, we at Magick Sandwich get down and dirty. This is one of those times. If you've never seen a curse word, avert your eyes and log off the internet forever. It's not a safe place for you.

*****

I'm not sure how I happened upon a listing for Natural Harvest: A Collection of Semen-Based Recipes, but I do know I never want to eat at the author's house. The ad copy is priceless. "Semen is inexpensive to produce...." Pretty much free, I reckon. Looking for a use for excess seed? This is your lucky day. Order this book and your wife will never complain about your chronic masturbation again. But you will never look at flan the same way again.

*****

Speaking of sperm, can we please retire the LiveStrong bracelets now? What's next, a chlamydia bracelet? (Kate Hudson, are you listening?) Lance Armstrong had testicular cancer and then won the Tour de France. So what? He had one ball, people, not one leg.

*****

 The wrapper on my toilet paper reads Scott. Common Sense on a Roll. If the benchmark for common sense is not wiping your ass with your bare hand, I think we're setting the bar a little too low.

*****

Now available at a drugstore near you: electrically charged face cream. Neutrogena explains the technology:

Patented ion2 complex™ contains essential ion-mineral conductors that, when activated by the companion moisturizer, create a positive electric micro-current. It's so gentle you can't feel it, but you'll see a resilient, toned, overall more youthful look.

Yes, it's so gentle you can't feel it...but your wallet will. Come to think of it, I'm going to go lick a battery and hand myself twenty bucks.

*****

I got an email this morning from Shu Uemura Art of Hair inviting me to "discover our precious ingredients." Here's one:

Unpolluted and free of bacteria, Depsea Water is drawn 200 meters beneath the Sea of Japan. Matured over hundreds of years, it is a rich source of essential minerals and nutrients that provide ultimate purity and hydration.

Drop one of the letters from "deep sea," smush them together and presto! We'll forget that it's water. Thank God it's drawn from 200 meters down because 100 meters down is filled with fish pee. But if it's so "precious," why am I putting it on my head? Shouldn't I be drinking it or praying to it? Then again, my dishwasher liquid is infused with gold dust. Isn't yours? And I eat coal and shit diamonds. Oh wait, that's corn.

***** 

Addressing the dearth of existential jewelry, Meghan Farrell has created a brain-shaped ring inspired by "one of the most influential psychology professors [she] had while at Sarah Lawrence." That teacher must be so proud. You can get a safety pin necklace that symbolizes security or a profile of a head that represents paying her rent. She's available for private consultation if you'd prefer a customized design. It's all the result of the jeweler's study of auto-kinetic and chaos theories, math and a great big steaming pile of horseshit.

 *****

There, I feel better. I pushed that thing out like an ugly baby. If I've left you with anything today, let it be this: Always be sure to spit it in a cup. You might want to do some baking later.

Can Wearing a Shirt Make You Gay?

Once again, your feckless reporter has made it onto the pages of Overheard in New York, with this tasty exchange:

Or I Should Stop Wearing Care Bear Tanktops

Suit #1: The girl I'm seeing, she likes to wear my shirts.
Suit #2: So?
Suit #1: I think she might be a lesbian.

--Park Place & Broadway
Overheard by: kathcom

I have one thing to say about this. While Overheard's title about Care Bear tank tops is a nice twist, I think the original meaning is much funnier. It seemed to me the guy was talking about the girl wearing one of his dress shirts, a button-down.

This is something that a girl will do when swanning about a guy's apartment. It avoids walking around naked or getting dressed in last night's togs to prepare for the walk of shame. It holds out the promise of more sex and it's supposed to look hot.

That this guy took it as a sign that she digs chicks is hilariously stupid on its own. It needs no embellishment. But, as always, New Yorkers say the darndest things and I'm happy that this website captures that so well.

I NY!

More overheard:
Almost Famous
My Eavesdropping is Overheard in New York

Governor's Race to the Bottom

It's not like New York State has the only deeply flawed human being as its governor. South Carolina has Mark Sanford, politician, family man and ersatz hiking enthusiast. Rod "Blacker than Barack" Blagojevich of Illinois is out of office but still on TV in Celebrity Apprentice. Rod, how can we forget you when you won't go away?

But it's true that New York's governor David Paterson is hanging on for dear political life to a post he didn't earn but lucked into due to someone else's scandal. His cheating? We already had sex scandal fatigue when we found out. New Yorkers said, "Oh, that again? Next!"


He accepted tickets to the World Series then tried to cover it up with a back-dated check forged by someone else. That is like scaling the Everest of ineptitude. But yeah, whatever, Yankee tickets. People have done worse.


But calling a battered woman to keep her from testifying against his closest aide? I'm not even sure what to call that--too many epithets apply. Paterson has finally announced he will not run for re(haha)election. But he insists he will remain in office until the end of the year.

To honor his momentous decision to overstay his welcome in Albany and politics in general, I have created this greeting card. It's available at someecards.com, for you to send a quick and easy shout out to your New York friends.

(Eliot, are you listening?)

I NY!

*****

Update:

The New Yorker did an article about Paterson called Troubled State.

And this week's New York magazine has an article about Charles Rangel, another pol 

who's bringing New York down.

More of my New York:

Reinventing the Wheel

The Canyon of Zeroes

Bloomberg Declares Burberry Day: WTF

Another Good Band Name

Another good band name, this one taken from the license of a New York City cab driver:

Milky Kaiser

I'm not sure which was is his first name but either way, it's awesome!

Related post:
7 Good Band Names
7 More Good Band Names

Charlie Sheen, The New York Times and Me

Still smarting from the whole Charlie Sheen prehab coinage kerfuffle, I decided to get proactive while poking a little fun of myself.

I realize that it doesn't matter if I coined the term prehab in regard to Charlie Sheen's latest "preventative" trip to rehab. Nor does it matter that Sheen's first wife, Donna Peele, has collected my initial post along with several others about her ex's exploits, on zimbio.com.

This little drama has played out solely between my ears. I missed out on a mention on Gawker and The New York Times. Who cares? Prehab was coined years ago on The Onion, anyway. So that term wasn't mine to claim.

*****

Back to the proactivity part. I'm happy to say that Urban Dictionary has accepted my new entry into the lexicon:

Me-tox:

When you need to go to detox to get over yourself.

Example: " X is so full of herself, she needs to go to me-tox."

It not only applies to me in this situation but also originates with me. Feel free to use it any time you like. But if you're a news outlet, for God's sake, please give proper attribution!

More Sheen-ography:
Charlie Sheen Doesn't Need Rehab!
I Could Have Been in the Times!

I Could Have Been in the Times!

Okay, not to sound all cranky, but when I posted my story about Charlie Sheen's prehab on February 23rd at 6:14pm, I topped Google search. My brother emailed to tell me I appeared to have just coined the term.

As it turns out, Gawker had just put up its own post, Charlie Sheen and Wife Battle to See Who Can Do Rehab Better, with no mention of prehab. Later that evening, a commenter named GlasgowRose used the term. On February 24th, Gawker posted a piece called Prehab Is the New Rehab and yours truly went straight back to the bottom of the barrel.

So more than one person had the idea. So what? I had it first but I can't expect to go up against a site like Gawker when I'm such a tiny blog. I did comment on Gawker that I had written about it, too, and was happy to be in good company. Gawker has comment moderation and I didn't make the cut.

But then, prehab showed up in the New York Times yesterday, in an article titled Why His Face May End Up In Webster's. It gives GlasgowRose credit for coining the term. Aarrgh! I crossed the finish line first, no big deal in the blog world. It's not like anyone stole the term from me. The timestamps are on my side but I can't complain without seeming like a desperate hanger-on, a liar. But The New York By God Times? I could have been mentioned there?

Gawker has now posted yet another story, this one called Gawker Commenters Are Now Coining New York Times-Approved Trend Terms. One commenter laments how uncool it is to be mentioned by the Times. Another one points our that The Onion coined the term in 2005. That should make me feel better. It does a little: again, I feel like I'm in good company.

I know, I've got to get over myself. Metox, maybe?


Original post:
Charlie Sheen Doesn't Need Rehab!

Cheating? There's an App for That

Introducing Tiger Text, the first app named after Tiger Woods, the golf pro and lover of bucket-titted women other than his wife.

This iPhone app, coming soon for Blackberry and Android, allows you to set a lifespan for your texts and delete them at both ends so that Hooters waitress you're boinking during your Senate race can't sell them to the Enquirer when you dump her.

And if you can't resist the thrill of sending a pic of your glorious genitalia to your whore du jour, you can program it to delete itself as soon as it's viewed. It's a little like Mission: Impossible but for philanderers instead of spies. ("This crude missive will self-destruct in five seconds.")

Ironically, if Tiger had had access to his namesake app, he might have prevented his own self-destruction--or at least the humiliation of attending a rehab that made him sign a contract stating he would not masturbate during his stay.

But guys, there is one tiny little catch. If your (in?)significant other also knows about the app, she can check your phone to see if you're using it. There's more than one way to catch a tiger by the tail, to skin a cat, etc. etc.

Chocolate Powered by Prayer: Product of the Week

Despite our name, we at Magick Sandwich do not believe in magical foodstuffs.So imagine our surprise when we found this company peddling enlightened delectation: Intentional Chocolate.

First of all, let me point out that unless you're being tortured--the technical term might be choco-boarding-- your ingestion of chocolate could arguably be defined as intentional. But this company goes way beyond that simple definition.

Its founder, Jim Walsh, states: "Whoever consumes this chocolate will manifest optimal health and functioning at physical, emotional and mental levels and in particular will enjoy an increased sense of energy,vigor and well-being for the benefit of all beings."

This feat is accomplished by having each chocolate prayed over by "advanced meditators -- some who have trained with the Dalai Lama -- and is delivered with love to those who eat it." I would hope in addition to love, the Lama taught them to use sneeze guards, rubber gloves and observe the "Employees Must Wash Hands" sign in the company restroom. No offense to these highly-trained love infusion specialists, but I don't want monk snot or worse on my chocolate.

Still skeptical? It's been "proven by scientific research to heighten well-being." In 2007, alternative health journal Explore (which also touts garlic as a breast cancer preventive) reported that a study of 62 people found that subjects who ate the intention-infused chocolate had more energy and better moods after three days than subjects stuck with plain chocolate. Wow, I'm convinced. Imagine what they could accomplish if they prayed for world peace?

The site also asks this deep question. "Why is a home cooked meal so satisfying and healing? Because it was made with love and infused with care." But my grandparents hated each other. Why didn't her cooking kill him? Hey, wait a second...he did die, eventually. This Jim Walsh guy is onto something. Just to be on the safe side, make sure someone tickles the chef or slips him a Prozac the next time you're out to dinner.

More products:
Twisted Product of the Week: Latisse
Flat-D: Product of the Week