I’m digging this tune, but the main reason I posted this shit was because I saw Walz the other night @ Birdy’s w/ M-80 hustlin’ the Almighty and Walz looked pretty fucking haggard.  I’m not trying to say shit, but the dude looked a little beat down.  And he was actually walking w/ a cane, like he really needed it.

DOWNLOAD: C-Rayz Walz – In Your Soul ft. Slug, Samuel, & Sum in 16.

Overview:

Monster M-80 is another product from Monster Energy’s “Juice” lineup of drinks. I’ve already reviewed Khaos, which earned an impressive score of 8/10. Can the M-80 top it? Let’s find out.

Straight from the can:

The magical smells in the air driving to the Monster Energy Pipeline Pro Surf competition on the North Shore of Oahu was our inspiration for new Monster M-80. We started with a killer combo of local tropical juices, added in some original Monster flavor, then souped it up with a full load of our potent Monster Energy blend.

Banzai!

Monster M-80… another radical “Juice Monster” hybrid with explosive flavor and the big bad Monster buzz you know and love.

Let’s take a look at it, shall we?

Review:

After opening the can and getting that first wiff of M-80, which was inspired by the Hawaiian air, you might get a little light headed. The aroma is so wonderful and light, it smells mainly of pineapple with some other scents backing it up. In fact, before I even drank this I went to Good Will and bought a button-up Hawaiian shirt to match the tropical scent. I’m such a douche bag.

On to the taste. M-80 contains Pineapple (most prominantly), passionfruit and apple juice blended together with a shot of Monster flavor and lightly carbonated. While this pales in comparison to Khaos’ 6 distinct juices blended together the M-80 is composed of 30% more juice than it’s counterpart. But does it taste good? Meh. It’s not bad. Really it tastes like carbonated pineapple juice. Not as good as Khaos, not as bad as urine.

Monster’s M-80 takes value to the next level. If you’ll recall, Khaos was blended with 50% juice and 100% percent monster, making 150% total volume. Well, this product kicks it up to 180% volume for the same $1.99 standard rate as something with only 100% substance in a container.

The Monster kick is definitley here. I’ve only drank about half the can while writing this and I’m already starting to feel it settle in. It’s a nice feeling. I’m not addicted, though.

Final Words:

Monster M-80 is a decent product with a strange taste that isn’t very accessible. The taste is comparable to Khaos in the fact that the flavor is unique, but unlike Khaos M-80’s taste never quite feels right.

Pros

• Wonderful, wonderful scent
• 180% volume for standard price
• All the kick is there

Cons

• Tastes too unique
• Looks even more like pee than actual pee does

Score:

Overall: 7.8/10 (slightly above average)
Aroma: 8.5/10 (really sweet. makes you want to surf)
Taste: 6.5/10 (it really is good, it just doesn’t feel right)
Kick: 8.5/10 (powerful)
Value: 18/10 (don’t argue, you’ll be wrong)
Looks a lot like: Pee/10

UPDATE!

I just peed, and it seriously smelled exactly like this stuff. It’s so magical!

Based in Liuyang, China, Black Cat is a brand of fireworks popular throughout the world; according to the website for Black Cat, “The history of firecrackers is deeply embedded in the Chinese psyche, in its traditions, its ceremonies and culture. Just as Europeans enjoy the pop of a champagne cork and a sip of sparkling wine to celebrate a birth, a marriage, a home-coming or a business deal, Chinese people prefer something more demonstrative than a single pop and a subdued fizz!”; the website also says: “In China, ‘black cats’ are a symbol of ‘luck and good fortune’”; in America, as in much of Europe, black cats are considered bad luck, especially if one crosses your path; historically, black cats have been associated with witchcraft and black magic; despite your religious beliefs, it is not acceptable to spend Halloween collecting black cats in a potato sack; according to folklore, Benjamin Franklin—a Puritan at heart—made it a requirement that when a court summons was issued, the person delivering the summons would wear black; legions of debtors and alimony-evaders soon were forewarned of a “black cat”—the nickname for the deliverer of a summons—crossing their path; by the late 19th century, the tradition of wearing black clothing when delivering a summons was outmoded, but the fear of black cats lingered; debtors are now okay, and are assisted in their personal journey by helpful credit card companies; alimony-evaders will always be bastards; beginning at age nine, and continuing through my childhood, July 5th held a special meaning for me; with the fireworks remaining from the Fourth of July, my best friends—Scott, EZ, Derek, and Ethan—and I spent the following day engaged in a full-scale bottle rocket war; roman candles, M-80’s, and smaller firecrackers were used as well; the fireworks were usually purchased in bulk during family vacations in Florida, South Carolina, or Tennessee; bottle rockets were loaded into PVC pipes and aimed at each other’s heads; we divided into two teams, but eventually it always became a free-for-all, a pyrotechnic genocide; July 5th was better than July 4th, because instead of shooting fireworks towards the moon (like everybody else in the U.S.A.), we blasted them at our best friends’ faces and torsos; on July 5th, when I was 12 years old, Scott invited a boy named Peter to join our bottle rocket war; I knew Peter from Little League and thought he was a good guy; Peter was a pitcher for “Trust Company,” and he could already throw a real curveball; Peter was an eager addition to our war, and he had excellent aim with the PVC pipe; however, I could not stop thinking about Peter’s father; Peter’s father was the assistant coach for “Trust Company,” and took third base coach duties when his team was up to bat; also, when Peter’s father was a teenager, he blew off his right hand with a firecracker; Peter’s father was the only one-handed third base coach I have heard of, and it was always a source of great inspiration—and humor—to watch him make coded hand gestures with his hand and stump; it was a distracting, hypnotic spectacle, always a mini-performance within the actual game; there are few things I can compare it to for pure, clumsy, animal beauty, but various three-legged dogs and the blind, stumbling ballerinas at the beginning of Pedro Almodovar’s “Talk to Her” come to mind; you see, when Peter’s father made gestures to the batter with his maimed arm, it ceased to be merely about athletics; that flapping, rubbing, twitching limb, deformed by Chinese explosives, was an admonition to each child on the field—and the adults sitting in the stands—that human bodies are frail, faulty, but the heart and mind are defiant; if that stump could speak, it would have said, “Look at me, you motherfuckers! I belonged to a life without fear. Now I dream of tickling piano keys, fingering the seams of a baseball, and massaging my wife’s soft neck”; on July 3rd, 2008, the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a voluntary recall of approximately 20,000 of Black Cat’s Screech and Scream Fountain Fireworks, because: “The fireworks can produce a loud bang and unexpectedly scatter debris, posing an injury hazard to the user and bystanders”; it is unknown how many of the consumers who purchased the Screech and Scream Fountain Firework read the July 3rd recall in the 24 hours prior to Independence Day; inevitably, if you search for video clips of Black Cat—or any other brand of fireworks—on YouTube, and continue watching “Related Videos,” you will wind up discovering footage of the world’s largest hydrogen bomb, a terrifying Soviet behemoth tested in 1961, nicknamed “Ivan.”

Worst to first; in 1990, the Atlanta Braves finished last place in the National League West division of Major League Baseball, but finished first in 1991; fan favorites on the roster of the ’91 Braves included David Justice, Tom Glavine, Lonnie Smith, Jeff Treadway, Steve Avery, Terry Pendleton, Ron Gant, Mark Lemke, Sid Bream, Jeff Blauser, John Smoltz, Otis Nixon, Rafael Belliard, and Deion Sanders; the first Gulf War ended in February of 1991, though no direct causal relationship can be deduced between the end of the war and the Braves spectacular season; the ’91 Braves, owned by the former husband of activist film actress, Jane Fonda, were an inspiration to many young fans, whose self-esteem was tied to their home team, and, as the Braves were routinely awful, these fans felt poorly about themselves; 1991 was the year this changed; it took the Braves seven games to defeat the Pittsburgh Pirates and claim the National League title; it took seven games for the Braves to lose the World Series to the Minnesota Twins; according to lore, the seventh son of a seventh son will be a warlock; Pittsburgh’s star pitcher was named John Smiley; “Smiley” is not an intimidating name; I watched the final two games of the World Series, which were played on October 26 and 27 of 1991, at the mountain cabin belonging to the family of my childhood friend, Derek; this cabin was in Montreat, North Carolina, and had originally belonged to Derek’s grandparents; Montreat is a popular area for church retreats; much of Michael Mann’s popular film, “The Last of the Mohicans,” was filmed near Montreat; in the film, Daniel Day-Lewis played a character named “Hawkeye”; fans of the Atlanta Braves would often perform the “Tomahawk Chop,” which is similar to “The Wave,” except instead of simulating an ocean wave, it involves miming the chopping action used to scalp an enemy; Derek’s cabin was near a creek; the water in the creek is the coldest water I have ever felt; we would fish for crawfish in this creek, using string, a hook, and pieces of bacon; after catching a crawfish, Derek enjoyed strapping M-80’s to them with a rubber band and watching them explode; I was envious of Derek’s family, which seemed tight, loving, and impervious to pain—like the families featured in TV shows on “Nick at Nite”; these shows included “The Donna Reed Show,” “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis,” and “Leave it to Beaver”; “Leave it to Beaver” ran for six seasons; Derek’s father was my Little League coach when I played for “Holiday Inn”; later, in 9th grade, Derek’s parents divorced after it was discovered that his father was having an affair with a 22 year old co-worker at the drug store where he was a pharmacist; after the divorce, Derek became very angry; more than 15 years later, Derek still seems angry; I have known Derek most of my life; remarkably, Derek’s younger sister seems even-keeled and, if you can believe it, happy; I wonder if Derek will ever get married; Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium became the home-field for the Braves beginning in 1965, and served them through the 1996 season; in 1997, the Braves moved to a new stadium called Turner Field; Turner Field, while newer than Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, was designed to feel like an old-fashioned stadium, thus making it “retro”; the Braves became dominant in the years following the ’91 season; I miss the time in the ‘80’s when the Braves were gutter-dwellers and I believed I was their only fan; “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” the lead single from “Nevermind,” the second album by popular grunge band, Nirvana, was released on September 10, 1991; I turned 13 years old just days before “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was released, and one month before the Braves won the National League championship; it was a good Fall; I had not yet discovered sex.

I blew the head of a snowman off.

MacGuffin es un término acuñado por el director de cine Alfred Hitchcock para designar un tipo de excusa argumental que consiste en presentar un hecho, en apariencia irrelevante, pero que, al final se revelará como un elemento importante en la explicación del desenlace de la historia. Lo relevante del MacGuffin es que es irrelevante en si mismo. Puede ser cualquier cosa.

Precisamente, en esa irrelevancia se basó Pablo Motos para crear una surrealista sección en su desaparecido programa de radio en M-80. En No somos nadie, MacGuffin se definía como “frases absurdas que van de ningún sitio a ninguna parte”.

Un ejemplo de frase que conformaba esta sección sería “Un parto en la calle, ¿es alumbrado público?”. U otra del tipo, “Si un abogado enloquece, ¿pierde el juicio?”. Se trataba de hacer juegos de palabras más o menos ingeniosos.

Sin embargo, lo que hacía muy popular esta sección, igual que ocurría con los momentos teniente, era la participación de la audiencia en la misma, ya que muchas de las frases que leídas en el programa eran enviadas por propios oyentes. Yo mismo envié varias. De ellas llegué a escuchar una varias veces:

“Si una monja viaja a las Islas Afortunadas y, como está de vacaciones, no reza tanto como sus compañeras, ¿una (h)ora menos en Canarias?”

En El Hormiguero, Pablo Motos intenta trasladar la complicidad que tenía con su audiencia radiofónica a la televisiva, pero parece que no le acaba de funcionar. De hecho, ha intentado recuperar algunas secciones, como las dudas existenciales, los momentos teniente y una versión adaptada, con webcam de por medio, de los pensamientos paralelos. Y es que realizar un programa diario en franja nocturna en televisión, no es lo mismo que presentar un magacín despertador en la radio. Yo, y esto es una apreciación muy personal, lo prefería en la radio.

También es cierto que la competencia, encarnada en Escenas de Matrimonios, pega muy fuerte. Algo que tampoco entiendo. Como tampoco entiendo que no escogieran otro de los MacGuffin que envié:

“Un Piolín de dos metros de alto, ¿es un gran-canario?”

Quizá es que era un humor demasiado local y, claro, se podían ofender en El Día. O, simplemente, la frase era mala.