When we decided to give Everyview another go, I couldn’t wait to start cranking out the extensive backlog of ideas that had stacked up during our extended absence.
But as it turns out, writing can be quite difficult when you’re an ambitionless idiot with marginal talent. So until I get my act together, here’s a photo of an amusingly defaced piece of legal tender, altered by a mind far zestier than mine.
Having followed the career of Zach Galifianakis for a long time, I’ve always been sort of surprised that he became a superstar. As both a standup and actor, his style has always been so uncompromisingly odd and niche – even in his breakthrough Hangover role – that he never seemed like someone who would achieve significant mainstream success.
But he did. In fact, his star power became so big that when Baskets, the FX comedy series he created with Louis C.K. and Jonathan Krisel, debuted in January, it became the highest-rated cable premier in two years. And yet, when presented with this particular bit of audacious weirdness from Galifianakis, a good chunk of the show’s initial audience seemed turned off and by season’s end, viewership had dipped by almost 50 percent.
And that substantial loss of audience, dear readers, is a pity, because those people tuned out one of the best and most strangely endearing shows to hit the airwaves in some time.
Cinnamon Rolls and cereal seem to come at polar opposite ends of the breakfast spectrum. When one finds time to eat cinnamon rolls, a good day is more than likely on the horizon, while a bowl of cereal generally indicates you’ll once again be subjected to texting your mom to let her know you got to work safely, even though you’re 26 and only commute 15 minutes.
Well, perhaps in an attempt to create some middle ground, the people at Cinnabon have molded the two sides together with a new, multi-grain cereal creation, and in a way they succeeded. If cinnamon rolls are ecstasy and cereal is agony, than middle ground would have to be apathy, which is exactly what I felt after two bowls of this stuff.
One area of success for the Cinnabon cereal is that when you open the box, you are greeted with a fairly accurate Cinnabon smell which is, of course, rather nice. It doesn’t have to sharp, hobo-lifting aroma (look it up, dammit. I’m tired of having to explain all my references) one gets when taking a hot tray from the oven but it’s pretty close for a cold cereal.
But I’m afraid from that point on, the experience becomes a bit lackluster. On early bites it has sort of a stronger and less enjoyable Cinnamon Toast Crunch taste that disappears rather quickly. Once given the opportunity to soak, you aren’t left with much of anything in the taste department.
Read the rest of this review.
Here’s a portion of a review on DIHTS.com:
The first problem I had with my Cherry Berry (I also spotted Apple in the frozen section of my local grocery store) was that it was leaky and made a puddly mess in my microwave. Seeing as how the product was made by Banquet, the margin of error was ultra-thin and being forced to take six seconds out of my five hour work day to wipe up a small mess made my mood less than jovial.
Also, I’d be lying if I said the ultra-thin crust made my mouth water. The box would lead you to believe the structure was thick and durable, when in reality it’s so meager it’s virtually transparent. It’s hard not to be apprehensive about eating something that looks like cheap drywall you’d find scattered about the floor of a Habitat for Humanity project house (I once spent three days on a volunteer work crew with my church’s youth group. Am I a hero? Probably, but that’s not what this review is about).
So with all these obstacles in the way, does it taste as awful as you’d expect? No, not really, which is really just to say it didn’t initiate the gag reflex I was expecting as I pensively stared over it several minutes after microwaving.
Read the full review on our sister site, Does it Hit the Spot?
Here’s a portion of a review posted on our sister site Does it Hit the Spot:
As for the taste, it’s basically what you’d expect it to be, which is to say the more you enjoy Oreo’s, the more likely you are to enjoy this product. Aside from the creme being runnier and less compacted that what you get with the cookies, the taste is virtually the same.
One problem I did have was that I didn’t find the product to be very texturally sound. Having gone through two of the six packages, I had one of the cookies break off on two separate occasions. I don’t know if this complaint really holds much ground as obviously it’s better for them to be too soft than too hard, but when it’s broken into sections, it makes the creme more difficult to proportionately spread and I am certainly anal retentive enough to find this bothersome.
Read the full review on DoesItHitTheSpot.com!
I find I’m generally only an interesting reviewer when I’m either writing about things I hate or things I love which simultaneously provide me with a platform to tell the people in my life to fuck themselves. The film Martha Marcy May Marlene, which was recently released on DVD, falls into neither of those categories.
It does, however, prove to be a well acted, well made psychological thriller that has maintained a steady presence in my mind in the days following my viewing. And while I can hardly guarantee this editorial will be worth your time, this movie most certainly is.
After escaping from a cult, Martha (Elizabeth Olsen) makes a panicked phone call to her estranged sister (Sarah Paulson) who allows her to stay with her and her husband (Hugh Dancy). Things inevitably become strained when the mentally damaged Martha, who struggles to differentiate between her past and present life, is unable to shake the anguish she sustained while under the spell of the cult, whose members may or may not be after her.
Here’s a portion of Casual Clay’s review from our sister site Does it Hit the Spot:
I know what you’re thinking: “Wow, a low fat cheeseburger you cook in the microwave? Even though I will no doubt break both my legs on the never ending puddle of saliva which will flow from my mouth at the mere thought of these, I will crawl on my belly through any terrain long before I even contemplate the idea of seeking medical attention!”
And I must admit this uber-sarcastic school of thought had me cursing myself the second I stepped out of the grocery store with a box of these in hand. But while I was initially excited about writing another one of my angry, cynical rants about bad food, to my surprise, this new entry from Smart Ones really isn’t deserving of my scorn.
Read the full review on DIHTS.com!
All the way back on Oct. 7, 2009, Everyview contributor Andrew Majors penned a positive review for the independent dramady film Away We Go, giving it a 7.75/10.
At the time, I hadn’t seen the film, so naturally I had no problem allowing him to express his mostly positive opinion. Tragically, I did eventually have the misfortune of watching this movie, which I found to be an appalling piece of arrogant dreck that Mr. Majors rated 7.75 points too high.
And while I would never force one of our contributors to alter his opinion to match mine, I couldn’t in good conscious give off the impression that his views formed an overall consensus at the Everyview HQ (which isn’t so much an office as it is a house/daycare center in a sketchy part of Terre Haute, IN). Because of that, and the sad fact that I literally don’t have anything current to write about, here is my ridiculously out-of-date recount of one of the most torturous film-viewing experiences I will ever encounter.
I’m not, by most accounts, a classy guy.
I don’t dress particularly well, I use an old cardboard box as a bedroom nightstand, and my eating habits are so poor that one of my two best friends in the world recently requested I photograph the contents of my refrigerator and email them to her so she could put them on her blog to allow her “high-minded” readers the chance to “find endless supplies of amusement at the absurd notion that someone with such a ridiculously unrefined culinary pallet could inaccurately convince himself that he is leading a worthwhile existence*.”
So naturally, I was less-than-enthusiastic when just two weeks into a new sports writing job, my employer “suggested” I spend a rare night off attending a Chamber of Commerce-sponsored business casual shindig of “all the Big Whigs of (my residing) county,” some of whom I would be expected to make professional connections with.
The evening garnered mixed results.
There’s an old adage about scary movies that says what you don’t see is more frightening than what you do because nothing can duplicate the horror one envisions in his or her own mind. I couldn’t help but think about this theory as I watched A Serbian Film, a movie which peeked my interest based on several reviews and online forums which declared it to be “the most controversial film of all time.”
Though much of what I’d read regarding the movie repulsed me, I am, if anything, curious about films of this extreme nature even when I expect to be mortified by them. And while this movie certainly doesn’t lack in the way of shock value, much of the research I’d done prior to my viewing created mental images that made me much more uncomfortable than anything that came out of this predictable, boring and flat-out bad movie.