There seems to be some sort of brouhaha surrounding Dr Pepper right now. From the various Facebook status updates I have seen, I have been able to piece together that it may have something to do with whether or not there is a period after the "Dr" in the name, a city in Ireland, and throwing Snapple bottles like Molotov cocktails. This is baffling news to me and if someone would like to synthesize it for me and leave it in a comment, I'd be much obliged.
Meanwhile, I will tell you two stories about my blatant hypocrisy.
Blatant Hypocrisy #1:
The only beverages of which I imbibe are of the one pronounceable ingredient variety. Namely: water, coffee, and milk and the occasional glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. When I was at a very impressionable age, someone told me a story about his ex-girlfriend's father who was a very large man. He switched from Coke to Diet Coke and lost about 40 pounds without making any other changes to his lifestyle. I found this particularly horrifying because I hate Diet Coke. I'm not a calorie counter at all, but perhaps because I'm not, I prefer not to fill up with beverages that have the calorie and carb content of an entire meal.
But then there is Mello Yello. Oh, Mello Yello, with your intentionally misspelled branding, your retro can and your nuclear waste greenish yellow (yello?) manufactured citrusy goodness. What better to wash down a giant helping of chips and queso than a bubbling river of sugary toxic delight? I could make all kinds of excuses and say it's only infrequently and usually only one can split between the Chief Lou and myself. I could be all defensive and say I never give it to my kids. But that only serves to further accentuate my hypocrisy. So instead I will just own it and say nanny nanny boo boo. What one of us doesn't occasionally indulge in something wholly disgusting, but thoroughly delightful?
What makes this particular beverage all the more fun is that in our house, one must say "Mella Yella" in an East Texas drawl and bellow it, even mid-sentence at the dinner table, in a Foghorn Leghorn type voice. Why am I telling you this? Because it leads into my second blatant hypocrisy.
Blatant Hypocrisy #2:
I never pay any attention to the news. I especially have moral and spiritual issues with the sort of lampooning, gossipy tearing down of public figures. When Tiger Woods and Charlie Sheen participated in their respective public downfalls, I hid anyone on Facebook who had a lot to say about it, I didn't find the jokes funny and I didn't want to hear it. How would you like it if your infidelity or mental breakdown was a punchline to millions of people? Call me crazy, but I don't think I would like that very much. Same goes for political gaffes - of which there are many. My natural state is to be critical and snarky and I work hard to be gracious to the real people in my life. I don't need to counteract that work by being critical and snarky about strangers who just happen to have the national attention. It's a personal choice and whatever, so's your face.
Having gotten all up on my self-righteous soap box, I will now come crashing bum over tea kettle down to say that the Chief Lou made me watch this video (reminds me of a reverse Garden of Eden: "It's this woman you made, Lord! She made me do it!") the first time, but maybe not the second through fifth times. Stupid YouTube and your stupid replay button. Alas, I will own it and I won't make excuses. It just tickled my funny bone. Without further ado, I give you.... Rick Perry.*
Even checking to make sure the video posted correctly has made me apoplectic. Someone with a lot of time on their hands and a delightfully absurd sense of humor has helped me combine two of my blatant hypocrisies. Forevermore, when either of us reaches for a Mello Yello, it is no longer the Foghorn Leghorn Mella Yella. No, that was fun while it lasted, but henceforth Mello Yello shall be known in our most presidential oratory voice as:
Meanwhile, I will tell you two stories about my blatant hypocrisy.
Blatant Hypocrisy #1:
The only beverages of which I imbibe are of the one pronounceable ingredient variety. Namely: water, coffee, and milk and the occasional glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. When I was at a very impressionable age, someone told me a story about his ex-girlfriend's father who was a very large man. He switched from Coke to Diet Coke and lost about 40 pounds without making any other changes to his lifestyle. I found this particularly horrifying because I hate Diet Coke. I'm not a calorie counter at all, but perhaps because I'm not, I prefer not to fill up with beverages that have the calorie and carb content of an entire meal.
But then there is Mello Yello. Oh, Mello Yello, with your intentionally misspelled branding, your retro can and your nuclear waste greenish yellow (yello?) manufactured citrusy goodness. What better to wash down a giant helping of chips and queso than a bubbling river of sugary toxic delight? I could make all kinds of excuses and say it's only infrequently and usually only one can split between the Chief Lou and myself. I could be all defensive and say I never give it to my kids. But that only serves to further accentuate my hypocrisy. So instead I will just own it and say nanny nanny boo boo. What one of us doesn't occasionally indulge in something wholly disgusting, but thoroughly delightful?
What makes this particular beverage all the more fun is that in our house, one must say "Mella Yella" in an East Texas drawl and bellow it, even mid-sentence at the dinner table, in a Foghorn Leghorn type voice. Why am I telling you this? Because it leads into my second blatant hypocrisy.
Blatant Hypocrisy #2:
I never pay any attention to the news. I especially have moral and spiritual issues with the sort of lampooning, gossipy tearing down of public figures. When Tiger Woods and Charlie Sheen participated in their respective public downfalls, I hid anyone on Facebook who had a lot to say about it, I didn't find the jokes funny and I didn't want to hear it. How would you like it if your infidelity or mental breakdown was a punchline to millions of people? Call me crazy, but I don't think I would like that very much. Same goes for political gaffes - of which there are many. My natural state is to be critical and snarky and I work hard to be gracious to the real people in my life. I don't need to counteract that work by being critical and snarky about strangers who just happen to have the national attention. It's a personal choice and whatever, so's your face.
Having gotten all up on my self-righteous soap box, I will now come crashing bum over tea kettle down to say that the Chief Lou made me watch this video (reminds me of a reverse Garden of Eden: "It's this woman you made, Lord! She made me do it!") the first time, but maybe not the second through fifth times. Stupid YouTube and your stupid replay button. Alas, I will own it and I won't make excuses. It just tickled my funny bone. Without further ado, I give you.... Rick Perry.*
Even checking to make sure the video posted correctly has made me apoplectic. Someone with a lot of time on their hands and a delightfully absurd sense of humor has helped me combine two of my blatant hypocrisies. Forevermore, when either of us reaches for a Mello Yello, it is no longer the Foghorn Leghorn Mella Yella. No, that was fun while it lasted, but henceforth Mello Yello shall be known in our most presidential oratory voice as:
Hot yella Kool-aid!
If you're going to violate randomly held principles, you may as well have fun with it and wash down that crow with some hot yella Kool-aid.
*You must watch the video or this post makes even less sense than my usual nonsense. Pay close attention around 1:05.
