Celebration of the 4th, er...1st

I am so not going to blog about Independence day.

Not the day, not the movie (which was awesome!), and not the Broadway play with Tyra Banks as John Adams. You spend tons of cash on exploding devices that last a millisecond. You have to watch the fact that at any time during this happy celebration, you might get your lips blown clean off by a "powder malfunction". And what real really pissed me off, was when you got that big ass box of JUMBO fireworks that cost the same as a Nintendo Wii, that advertised 35 "exciting fireworks!!!", 25 of them was two boxes of sparklers (one silver, one gold, both look the same), a package of ground snakes (i.e. slow ash piles), and the smoking cabin (same effect, and excitement, as burning a pencil.).

And how can I be all "weeee! we live in the land of the free!", when gas cost so much, it's now cheaper to buy a horse because, according to Google, hay is less per gallon. I miss having to think about, plan, take out a loan, on taking a spontaneous trip.

So instead I celebrated July 1st.

Now that is an important day! Why, you may ask? That was the momentous day that Dr. Henry Walton Jones Jr. was born in 1899. "Indiana" to his friends. And having enjoyed his latest Docu-drama May 25th, I think it was time to celebrate something with more substance. And to do that... I decided that I would eat nothing but Indiana Jones-branded foods all day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There will be no time for love, Dr. Jones, because I have a digestive system I need to strain to its breaking point.

Yesterday, for breakfast, I started out with the official Indiana Jones cereal. Essentially the most bargain basement Cocoa Puffs (i hate Cocoa Puffs. This is for science though), the Indy cereal also had some of the vaguest cereal marshmallows I've ever seen:

That brown thing on the far left is, according to the box, "Indy's Hat." Next to it, a "Crystal Skull." So far, I can see it. No problem. But the next thing is NOT actually fossilized cheese but "The Temple of Akator." Yep, that bulbous hunk of maize is a "temple" allegedly made of gold. You might think the next one is "Temple of Akator Stuffed into Indy's Hat" or, as I hoped, "Blonde Russian," but it is, in fact, a "torch." So there you have it. Let's dig in.

And since there's no Indiana Jones 2% Milk of the Gods, I had to eat it dry.

Next up, I had Eggo Toaster Sticks branded with an Indiana Jones DVD giveaway offer.

Me? i'm wishing they also made an Indiana Jones Maple Syrup of Sargasso Sky Pirates, because these things were bland and dry. But at least I didn't feel like throwing up yet, so I count myself ahead. I already had the DVD, duh! Hell, I was Indiana Jones for Halloween as a child, and my grandfather gave me his real hat and whip! Vintage! Not those Don Post boxed costumes you find at Fred Meyers or Ralph's, with a plastic face mask and a mosaic of Dr. Jones adventures on the satiny cloth. I stopped short of the fake beard, because I knew I'd just look homeless, or a psychopathic Emmett Kelly hobo that you'd find ranting behind a liquor store threatening people with a broken car antenna. But I digress...

For lunch, I splurged on some Indiana Jones-branded Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its and a Dr. Pepper in a limited edition Indy can. If a taste combination could ever be named "Middle America," (or "Diabetic Coma"). it's this. As comforting as a hug from an obese aunt.

Oh, and I'm not a Pepper at all. Taste like liquorice cough syrup. Maybe I should have used that on the cereal or waffles. Be seeing that it's "Dr." pepper, I assume the medical credetals are valid. Should have called it Dr. Peppianda Jones soda...

Around mid-afternoon, I indulged in some special edition Indiana Jones mint M&Ms and a Snickers "Adventure Bar." The M&Ms are a superb palette-cleanser, but they're essentially mint M&Ms. Nothing to write a blog about (eh...ooops...). However, this isn't your average Snickers, despite the presence of chocolate, caramel, nougat, and nuts. I let it roll around the tongue and I detect hints of coconut and spice. Well played, Snickers. And right on cue, I was a little ill at this point.

Just in time for dinner, when the culinary equivalent of the Raiders of the Lost Ark boulder headed right for my colon. The Burger King Indy Whopper—Two beef patties, tomatoes, onions, pepper jack cheese (obviously, nothing says "globe-trotting archaeologist like the Jack!), and not one, but TWO kinds of mayo: Regular and "cajun." I don't know if Indy's ever been to New Orleans and neither does Burger King, but do you see me giving a shit? I wanted the toys!

It went down smooth, like trying to stuff a wet chihuahua into a garden hose. My heart hurts. If Mola Ram could reach in and tear it out, I think it'd save both of us years of headache.

After a few more mint M&Ms and a Temple Of Doom Mine Cart-esque bathroom experience, I put an end to my Indiana Jones eating adventure!!!

Yeah, it seems stupid, but what do you think the real Indiana Jones was doing at the same time?

...being as dorky as me! Harrison, you big geek! Even got the Taters of the Lost Spud!!

Happy July 1st everyone!