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Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA
I originally wrote this piece for MediaShower.com, for use on the late, great comedy site ZuG.com. Text and images published here with permission.
It’s that time of year again — when millions of small children are flung, yelping and mortified, onto bright yellow buses bound for homeroom purgatories across the nation.
In other words: back to school.
Personally, I haven’t attended school in years. I last had class back in the mid-90’s (when striped shirts were the rage), but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the season. Why should the Social Studies schlubs and Gymboree brats have all the fun? If we post-schoolers want to relive our halcyon — or not-so-halcyon — academic days in a bout of rat race-induced nostalgia, that’s our perogative. It’s as natural as pizza square cafeteria lunches, or wedgies in gym class.
But we’ll need some help. That’s where our old tutor Amazon comes in. Check out the “learning aids” below — and my actual Amazon reviews of all the products — to put the rock back in your schoolhouse. Take notes if you need to; this material will be on the test.
My Amazon Review:
I don’t have a proper school desk — nor would my adult hindquarters likely fit into one without a weeklong fast, three quarts of Crisco and an oversized shoehorn. So I bought this lap desk to give some semblance of the old schoolhouse experience.
I used the desk on my couch, and it worked well for a while. It holds a book in place in roughly the same manner as a real desk — or a large block of wood, for that matter — might. But I’d forgotten how exhausting learning can be, which is where this lap desk really stands out. After ten minutes of slogging through “Intro to Classical Philosophy,” I was exhausted. So I flipped the desk over, pulled up my knees and had a nice nap on the cushy beanbag side.
I snore, therefore I am.
I don’t remember anything I read, but I did have a dream where Zeno and Socrates walked exactly halfway into a bar and ordered hemlock martinis from some guy sitting in a cave. Which is about as far as I ever got with that material, so I’m calling this a “win.”
My Amazon Review:
I’m not QUITE old enough to have attended school where these handheld bells were in use, but it still reminds me of the old class bells telling us when to go to class, or to leave class, or to march our delinquent butts to detention hall. Again.
I’ve taken to using my bell in much the same way — to announce transitions from one place to another. I ring it when I leave the house for work, and again when I head for home at the end of the day. I ring it at noon for a lunch break, and approximately three hours later when my “recessiesta” is over. And, naturally, I ring it before and after bathroom breaks.
My wife argued the last point, saying that schools don’t actually have preset potty periods scheduled. But I pointed out the ten minutes usually reserved between classes, and maintained that I’m acting in the spirit of the schedule design. She countered that if I “ring that godforsaken thing one more time because you have to go at two in the morning, I’m going to cram it where no one will ever hear it again.”
I think she may have a point. I guess you’re never too old to learn, after all.
My Amazon Review:
I gave a lot of thought to what was missing the most from my old school experience, and found the answer readily: there was no drinking. This flask-in-a-book takes care of that omission with the promise of a much-needed tipple after a long day spent conjugating verbs or memorizing times tables or climbing that stupid rope in the gym.
Since I’m not ACTUALLY going back to school, I decided to take it to work instead. It’s a bit of a harder sell in an office environment — they don’t actually assign book chapters as homework to read at my desk, unfortunately — but I’m making do. The hardest part is keeping the book in front of my face when I duck in for a secret swig or three. I think people may be getting suspicious; my boss keeps asking why I bring “Wuthering Heights” to every staff meeting, and why I end up passed out under the table by the end.
There is no one in the room who is NOT fooled by this brilliant ruse. NO ONE.
Clearly, I need to order a second book, to throw him off the scent.
My Amazon Review:
I never had a really hot teacher back in school, so I thought I’d shoot for one now. I bought this outfit and convinced — read: BEGGED — my wife to wear it for some steamy fun. She finally agreed, and put it on for me last weekend. I told her I’d been a baaaaad student, and needed some extra time with the teacher to catch up. She slid behind me with a stern look on her face, leaned in close to my ear and whispered…
“It’s clear you’re not applying yourself, mister. You read the next three chapters of Moby Dick, and I want a report on my desk first thing in the morning discussing the symbolism and themes as they relate to contemporary American society. Now march!”
Then she scheduled a meeting with my parents and made me sit in the corner for talking during “quiet time.” Now I’ve got detention for a week, and a huge Latin test coming up. Why couldn’t I have gone for the “Naughty Nurse” costume instead?
Yep, that’s the school experience, all right. Just the way I remember it.
Join in on the prank! Click the links to see each real-life Amazon review, then mark them as “helpful” so they rise to the top of the list on Amazon. Or click here to read and rate the entire library of Zolton reviews!
Permalink | No CommentsI originally wrote this piece for MediaShower.com, for use on the late, great comedy site ZuG.com. Text and images published here with permission.
There’s just something about wintertime in New England. The brisk subzero temperatures, the refreshing hurricane-force gales, the serene majestic drifts of fallen snow. It’s romantic — like a scene right out of Currier and Ives.
That is, until you shovel nine feet of white crap off your steps, lose a boot and three toes trudging ass-deep to your car like some sack-race Eskimo, then get plowed in behind a gaggle of gormless yuppies who can’t drive their hybrid solar smugmobiles in the snow. I’m freezing my moobs off over here, I haven’t had feeling in my fingers since December, and if my testicles ever thaw and crawl back out of my abdominal cavity, Currier and Ives can take turns sucking them. New England winters? Humbug.
My sole relief after a long day of shoveling snow onto the neighbors’ sidewalks or building erotic snowmen on the old folks’ lawn is to raise my body temp back up as quickly — and as recklessly — as humanly possible. Luckily, I don’t have to warm up alone. Our old snuggle bunny Amazon has lots of products to chase the chill out of wintry bones. Here are just a few that’ll put the apple right back in your cheeks, along with the real-life product reviews I recently left for them:
My Amazon Review:
I bought three of these bottles, HOPING that it would dispense real lava. Or at least something very, very hot. Like boiling oil, or molten steel, or Eva Longoria.
No such luck. All that squeezes out of this thing is SOAP. And the package sat on my porch all afternoon, so it’s really cold, almost FROZEN SOAP. I might as well have dipped my hands in soft-serve ice cream. If anything, using this product actually made me colder.
On the bright side, my hands did get impressively clean. If any fingers actually survive the frostbite, that’s going to be sweet.
My Amazon Review:
I bought this product because I’d seen quite a few people wear them who really seem to know how to stay warm — hard-core skiers, armed robbers, people from British Columbia.
On the plus side, it does keep my head pretty toasty — but only if I really pull the drawstrings tight to keep the cold air out. Unfortunately, I can’t see much out the little hole in the front when I do that, so I tend to run into a lot of things while I’m wearing it — snow banks, busy intersections, and in one rather unfortunate case, my local bank branch.
The last time I saw the world through a hole this small, a birth canal was involved. Just don’t ask me whose.
Everything got sorted out when the cops arrived — they agreed that “premeditated robbery” and four inches of visibility in front of my face probably didn’t mesh — but it was embarrassing, nonetheless. Maybe these should come with some sort of warning. Like a nice “THIS IS NOT A STICK-UP” embroidered on the neck, maybe? I’m just spitballing here.
My Amazon Review:
I’ve always liked that warm feeling from slipping into a freshly-pressed shirt or pair of slacks. What better way to warm up after a hard sidewalk shovel, I figured, than a quick steam job on my clothes … while I was still wearing them. The wrinkles come out, I can feel my nipples again — that’s a “win-win” in my book.
“I’ll be out soon, honey — I’ve got some pressing matters to attend to.”
In practice, I have to say I had mixed results. A quick glide across the chest or knees felt pretty good. But there are places on your own worn clothes that you can’t — and a couple more that you SHOULDN’T, ever, really — reach with a screaming-hot 1700-watt iron. And while I can’t say that my outfit was any less wrinkly when I was done, I was definitely warmer than when I’d started. A lot jumpier, and possibly branded like a prize steer, but still — WARMER. Solid product.
My Amazon Review:
I’ve always heard that if you warm up on the inside, then the outside will follow. So I bought this bottle of El Yucateco and saved it for the next inevitable snowstorm. When I was done shoveling and still shivering, I opened it up and slammed it down the hatch — all eight ounces.
First, a few words about the taste: El Yucateco red has a nice tangy element, lingering through the forward habanero kick and beyond. The additional spices play well with the primary pepper, adding a savory depth that’s more than just (considerable) heat or capsaicin jolt. The tomato base and hearty thick texture promise a richness and complexity of flavor that is delivered quite nicely to the palate.
The journey of a thousand burning poops begins with a single chug.
And now, a few words about the unrelenting napalm burn that traveled through my delicate insides: AAAAAUUUUUGHHHHH! AAAHHHHH! AAAHHHHH! YIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!
Overall, I’d say this would make a very nice complement to a variety of Mexican or South American dishes, as well as grilled meats, starchy vegetables or as an extra kick to, say, garlicky green veggie side dishes. Also, it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to sit down without searing pain for at least a month. So “use in moderation” is the take-home message, I suppose.
Join in on the prank! Click the links to see each real-life Amazon review, then mark them as “helpful” so they rise to the top of the list on Amazon. Or click here to read and rate the entire library of Zolton reviews!
Permalink | 1 CommentI originally wrote this piece for MediaShower.com, for use on the late, great comedy site ZuG.com. Text and images published here with permission.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. The biggest holiday on the calendar — most right-thinking people would say the only holiday that matters — is right around the corner.
That’s right, kids. Super Bowl Sunday.
Think about it. There’s something for everyone on The Greatest Sunday Ever Played — Sports. Booze. Music. Greasy Food. Cheerleaders. Sometimes greasy cheerleaders. It’s a veritable entertainment bonanza.
(Not like those other holidays. Please. What’s Halloween but a prelude to a stomach ache? Christmas is for babies and Bible thumpers. Thanksgiving has “football”, yes — but it involves the Lions, so we have to put the word in quotes. And is three hours of that really worth choking down your Aunt Greta’s Jell-O salad?
Be honest, now. The old girl can’t hear you.)
As a Super Bowl party host this year, I have the sublime honor — and enormous responsibility — to make the holiday magical. So last weekend, I held a dry-run Super Bowl party to practice. I didn’t invite the good friends, or pull out the good bean dip recipe. But otherwise, it was a full-on fire drill version of the festivities to come. I even ordered a test set of supplies from Amazon for the occasion. And my pigskin shindig rocked. Call me Vince Lom-Party.
Read on for the post-party recap — and my actual Amazon reviews of all the products listed. Huddle up, children. The Super Bowl’s a-comin’ to town!
My Amazon Review:
You can’t have a fiesta without salsa. And you certainly can’t throw !EL FIESTA GRANDE! without a whole big bunch of it. And this, friends — this is a whole big bunch of salsa.
Seriously, who wants some effing salsa? Old El Paso’s got nothing on this tub o’ goodness.
I especially like that this salsa is kosher, because everyone should feel comfortable at a good party. In the middle of a huge bash — with bacon-wrapped scallops and six kinds of barbecue and a roasting pig on a spit out back — it’s nice to be able to turn to one of my friends of another faith and say:
“Fear not, champ. I have twenty-five pounds of mild chili salsa sitting in a tub on the porch. It’s all yours. Enjoy!”
Thank you, Kosher Tex-Mex Salsa Grande. Thank you!
My Amazon Review:
This year, the Patriots and Giants are playing. I’m expecting fans of both teams, and as host, it’s up to me to keep the peace. So what do both teams have in common — apart from 400-pound millionaires, prima donna quarterbacks and a twenty-week work year?
Saaaay … does this paint make me look like a Tobias?
BLUE. Both teams feature the color blue prominently — so why couldn’t I? I Smurfed myself up from head to toe with this paint, and hosted from a fully neutral and impartial hue. Also, from a pair of visitor’s-gray underpants. Because even the neutral need a touch of decorum.
My Amazon Review:
What’s a Super Soiree without great music to get the crowd pumped? I picked up this set of “Sunday Sing-a-Longs,” figuring on gems like “We Are the Champions” or “Hey-Hey-Hey Goodbye.” Or “All My Rowdy Friends Are Questionable to Return After Suffering Possible Concussion-Like Symptoms Tonight.”
But no. Turns out these are … “different” Sunday songs. Like, Sunday school. And though we tried singing a few, it’s just not easy to work yourself into a sporting froth against your hated opponent while belting out “O Happy Day” or “Kumbaya.”
So we changed a few words here and there, which worked wonders. Call me crazy, but if these guys would just re-record this album with “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Spike the Ball” and “Michael, Row That Ball Right Down Their Freaking Throats,” I think the crossover to sports fans would be a no-brainer. I’m just spitballing here.
My Amazon Review:
After the big game is over, folks will want to relive what they just saw — maybe even act out a few plays. Now, I can’t afford one of those newfangled TiVo machines, or Madden NFL on some videographical gaming doohickey. But I bought this electic football board, and that can be JUST as realistic.
Granted, most of the actual players don’t run in little circles during the play or fall over the sidelines repeatedly. Not since Ricky Williams stopped smoking, anyway. But we re-enacted a few plays from the last Patriots-Giants Super Bowl on this table, and it was uncanny how real it looked. Especially after one guy accidentally dropped a cocktail weenie on the field, and we decided to call it Eli Manning.
I’m telling you. UNCANNY.
Aw, hell — “impartial observers” are for CNN and Fox News. Go Pats!
Join in on the prank! Click the links to see each real-life Amazon review, then mark them as “helpful” so they rise to the top of the list on Amazon. Or click here to read and rate the entire library of Zolton reviews!
Permalink | No CommentsI originally wrote this piece for MediaShower.com, for use on the late, great comedy site ZuG.com. Text and images published here with permission.
Times are tough all over. It seems like every week another country is declaring bankruptcy or defaulting on student loans or begging for change downtown. The economy’s circling the bowl, and spinning most of our cash down with it. It’s enough to send a guy into poorhouse paranoia.
I might not be able to afford stripes on my rugbys? THE HORROR.
Still, we can try to help ourselves. Some financial fat cat once said you have to spend money to make money — Alan Greenspan? Donald Trump? Scrooge McDuck? I forget — so I’ve been on the lookout for shrewd investment tools to get me back on the Money Train tracks. I’m looking to put the “recess” back in “recession” over here. Booyah.
And what better place to turn for advice than trusty old Amazon.com? Read on to see the financial help I found — and my actual Amazon reviews of all the products listed. If you’re looking to put a little weight back in your wallet, you could do worse. (Not much worse, clearly.)
My Amazon Review:
I’ve never understood much about financial theory. I figure when the screaming heads all agree to do something, I should do it — but I don’t always see what they’re so excited about.
Like these pots. All the money wags are yelling, “BUY SHORT STOCKS! BUY SHORT STOCKS!” So I bought a bunch of these stock pots as an investment. Are they short enough? Am I allowed to cook with them? And what do I do with them when the economy recovers? I’ve got no idea.
Eventually, I decided to pour ALL my money into stocks. I’m not so much teh smrt.
I’m just glad they’re not telling me to stockpile Bonds any more. I already own all the DVDs, plus a Roger Moore action figure. Man, personal finance is complicated.
My Amazon Review:
I bought this book because I thought it would help me save “MONSTER MONEY!” with a bunch of helpful personal finance tips. Turns out it’s a kids’ book. Not so much “MONEY that is MONSTER” as “MONEY that’s for MONSTERS.” Which is somewhat less helpful, unless maybe you’re a hobgoblin or kraken or panhandling Mothra, perhaps.
On the upside, those nasty creatures in the book sort of remind me of our current financial situation. So I named them accordingly. The big green one is “S&L Bailout,” the yellow one is “Deficit Spending,” and the unholy chicken-looking thing is “Debt Ceiling Debate.”
I may not have saved any money with this book, but at least the future seems a little less scary. There’s no such thing as monsters … right?
My Amazon Review:
All the experts say to “buy gold” in down times. Sink your savings into gold! Buy up all you can! Hoard it like a miser!
That’s great, I suppose. Except my savings would buy approximately fourteen milligrams on today’s market. I’ve eaten candy bars wrapped in more gold.
So I bought this kit instead to help me FIND gold. And later learned that where I live, near Boston, there is no gold. Not outside Newbury Street jewelry stores, anyway.
Still, I put the pan to good use. There are plenty of fountains around here, and coins galore to be sifted off the bottom. I may not be rolling in gold, but I’m at least swimming in nickels. Hey, it’s a start.
Thank YOU, fatcat downtown shoppers! If you wished for some doofus to spend your twenty cents on twelve seconds of hookers and virtually no blow, congratulations!
My Amazon Review:
I figured the least I could do is save my money securely. So I bought this bank and stuffed my change into it for the last few weeks. That worked great.
Only now I need to get my money OUT, and the pig isn’t having it. I tried shaking it through the hole in the bottom, sucking it out with a vacuum cleaner, even reaching in with salad tongs like I was playing a game of for-profit porcine Operation. Nada.
Reluctantly, I finally decided to smash the thing with a hammer. Unfortunately, I forgot that the bank’s made of rubber — not ceramic — so instead of breaking it, the hammer bounced back and I smacked myself in the eye.
I don’t appreciate that kind of backsass from my bacon, y’hear?
Now I’ve got a shiner, and all my money for an ice pack is in the stupid pig. I’ve heard of “penalties for early withdrawal,” but this is ridiculous.
I’ma get my money out, or wind up with a gold toof. Either way? WINNING.
Join in on the prank! Click the links to see each real-life Amazon review, then mark them as “helpful” so they rise to the top of the list on Amazon. Or click here to read and rate the entire library of Zolton reviews!
Permalink | No CommentsI originally wrote this piece for MediaShower.com, for use on the late, great comedy site ZuG.com. Text and images published here with permission.
I’m not the biggest fan of Christmas. There, I said it. Frankly, I’m just not sure what the holiday’s about any more.
Let’s face it — Christmas these days belongs to Target and Walmart. They stole it from Macy’s, who wrestled it from Sears and Roebuck, who snatched it from the Christians, who originally yoinked it away from the pagans. And the pagans didn’t care about over-commercialized jingle-bells-to-the-wall holidays. They were just using the winter solstice as an excuse to dance around and get hammered, trying to not freeze their filthy heathen chestnuts off before Valentine’s Day.
Clearly, the pagans are the only ones who had it right.
Still, the missus insists that I froth myself into the “Christmas spirit” this year, so I’m making an effort.
“All right, I’m effing festive, already — is that good enough? No? FRACK!
And nothing gets my sleigh bells ringing like buying festive holiday crap online. So if you’re feeling Scroogey this Christmas, have a look at the items below — and my actual Amazon.com product reviews. You’ll be hanging bits of Carol and belting out Hollys in no time.
Or, you know, the other way around. Whichever’s easier. I’m pretty new to this whole “holiday cheer” business.
My Amazon Review:
Mistletoe is an old Christmas standby, and romantic to boot. But who wants some hacked-off bit of poisonous plant looming over their doorway? Better, I thought, to bring the tradition home in candle form. I’m not usually so keen on the aromas of things that end in “toe,” but I have to say, this candle smells really nice and piney fresh.
As mistletoe, it’s another story. I tried angling for a smooch from my sweetie the other day, lifting the candle above our heads in the established mistletoe tradition. Sadly, the candle is rather heavy, and when I leaned in for a peck I accidentally dropped it on my own head. I thought I was getting a kiss, and instead I wound up on the floor bleeding from a head wound and trying to remember the name of the letter that comes after “G.” And that doesn’t spell “Christmas” in my book.
More like “junior prom,” from what I can recall. At least that came with a boutonniere and a flask full of Boone’s Farm. Now all I’ve got is memory loss and this smelly green candle.
My Amazon Review:
As the jolliest of elves — or at least the manager of the most jolly elf sweatshop around — I figured Santa would brighten up our house for the holidays. I bought this flag and hung it proudly right outside our door.
Unfortunately, I happened to be on the porch reading the text when my wife and her two sisters came back from a holiday shopping spree. And for some reason, they didn’t appreciate me shouting “Ho! Ho! Ho!” repeatedly as they walked up the sidewalk.
Actually, I shouted “Ho! Awesome hot sweet wife! Ho!” Because one of them knows where my testicles sleep.
Probably, the thrusting and pointing and other hand gestures didn’t help. What can I say? Sometimes the Christmas spirit moves a guy. Otherwise, nice flag.
My Amazon Review:
I agreed — against my better judgement — to sit down and have a holiday cup of eggnog with the family. That was before I remembered that Aunt Jackie is hardcore Hollywood vegan — she won’t eat anything that’s ever had a line in an film. She lost fifteen pounds after “Veggie Tales” came out. I’m talking Hard. CORE.
So I ended up buying this “rice nog” instead. Which tastes just about you might think a recipe calling for eggs would taste, if you made it with rice instead. Ever try a rice omelet? Rices Benedict? Long grain over easy?
Rice nog, like Veggie Tales, actually tastes better ON THE WAY BACK UP.
Even Aunt Jackie wouldn’t drink this stuff — and she thinks tofurkey is the caviar of veganarianist cuisine. Boy, was there rice on MY face after that.
My Amazon Review:
Finally, my wife convinced me we should hang Christmas stockings, just like old times. We’d each tell the other little trinkets and treats we wanted, and sneak them into the other’s stocking.
I only wanted one thing. So I bought this extra-large and sturdy number, to make sure it would hold up. And sure enough, after I’d dropped candies and gum drops and mini tubes of toothpaste into my wife’s stocking, I checked mine for the goods — one oversized bottle of cheap tequila, to get me through the holidays.
Sure enough, there it was. I don’t know if this counts as “Christmas spirit,” but with any luck I’ll be smiling wide until New Year’s. Feliz Navidad!
Me an’ my skinny new friend here are gonna have the best. Christmas. EVAR!
Join in on the prank! Click the links to see each real-life Amazon review, then mark them as “helpful” so they rise to the top of the list on Amazon. Or click here to read and rate the entire library of Zolton reviews!
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