Aug 25th, 2006, 12:59 AM
A Delightful Experience with my Tuscan Whole Brand Milk, August 24, 2006
Reviewer: C. Wetzel "John C. Wetzel" (United States) - See all my reviews
Okay, I'll admit it, I used to shop for my groceries at my local food store like any other right-minded, middle-class American. However, as I was browsing the Internet searching for free "exotic" movies as I normally do every Wednesday night, I came across a link to purchase Tuscan Whole Milk (1 Gallon, 128 fluid ounces, of course) here, at Amazon.com. What a stroke of luck! It was as if the angels of heaven were shining their holy grace upon my decrepit E-Machines computer. Without second thought or hesitation I threw the order for my Tuscan Brand Whole Milk into my online shopping cart and proceeded to order the white liquid of joy. Following my online venture and my fair share of exotic movie viewing, I preceded to call it a night and rest for whatever tomorrow had to bring.
The next morning I awoke to a morning routine of normality--take a shower, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, and go off to work. This pattern continued on day after day until a small brown package arrived at my doorstep. As I pulled into my driveway I noticed the peculiar package and within a blink of an eye I slammed on my car's brakes until they came to a screeching halt. Without any other concern going through my mind, I leaped out of my car and tackled the package, gnawing and chewing my way to the hidden prize inside. After countless paper cuts and bloody fingers, I succeeded in opening the package to find the missing piece in my life: Tuscan Brand Whole Milk. Life was perfect and for the next seven days Tuscan Brand Whole Milk and I lived in peaceful serenity. But as they say, good things must come to an end.
I never went or did anything without my Tuscan Brand Whole Milk. I guess you could say we were inseparable. A week past since my milk and I became united. Everything was fine until one faithful night when I went to my local grocery store to pick up some radishes. Of course, if I had the choice I would have purchased the radishes online through Amazon to help retain the stereotyped view of me being a hermit, but Amazon did not offer these red wonders online and I was desperate to have them. My brain was going back and fourth on this issue--should I go and get my radishes or should I stay and be deprived of my red veggie? The more I thought about this the more I wished Amazon offered this vegetable for sale on their site.
This was it; I had no choice. I had to go back to my local grocery store.
Before my departure I grabbed my Tuscan Brand Whole Milk and my jacket and headed off to my car. "There's no turning back now," I thought. As I entered the store, Tuscan Whole Brand Milk in my hand, I was overcome by a sense of betrayal. "How could I have the nerve to reenter this place after doing my shopping online?" I muttered to myself, "What type of man am I for doing such an act of blasphemy?" Some people may call me too kind-hearted, and that may be, but whatever the case I was aware that by me stepping foot into this grocery store after committing the act of buying food products online was an act of treason and that I would be offending the employees.
I slowly crept forward towards isle two, the isle that held my radishes. There was an employee there restocking one of the shelves. He was a young fellow, no older than seventeen, and had greasy blonde hair, a label scanner at hand, and a nametag that read, "Jason." I innocently walked closer towards him and my radishes. I forced a smile to Jason as I approached my shelf. Expecting the traditional return smile, I was instead greeted by a look of sheer anger and disgust by the greasy-headed teenager. "He must know," I confirmed to myself, "He must know that I purchased my Tuscan Brand Whole Milk from the web instead of here." I slowly shifted the milk in my hand towards my back--a view in which Jason could not see.
It was too late, though. Jason immediately ran to the checkout counter and blasting on the intercom exclaimed, "Attention all employees, we have a 249'er in the vicinity." Even though I had no idea as to what "249" meant in grocery-lingo, I knew it was about me and I knew it wasn't good. No later than Jason's intercom fiasco, three shinobi ninjas came busting through the cheap, sheetrock ceiling tiles creating a closed circle around me and my Tuscan Whole Brand Milk. Slowly inspecting my opponents, I noticed each ninja was substantially different in height--one short, one middle,and one tall. Something was different about these ninjas, however. Instead of the holding traditional katana blades, these ninjas had PET Brand Skim Milk (in ½ Gallon, 64 fluid ounces, no less).
Milk at hand, these ninjas were ready for a fight. An immense battle commenced. The first punch was made by the short ninja who squirted a couple dozen ounces of PET Brand Skim Milk. With Matrix-like moves, I easily dodged the milk and counteracted with a blast of my Tuscan Brand fury. The shortest ninja was easily defeated upon being drenched with awesome purity of my Tuscan Milk. The other two ninjas--the middle one and tall one--were a different story. These ninjas were not giving up without a fight. An hour-long battle raged on with these two samurai until the tall ninja slipped; he dropped his ½ gallon of milk. Seeing this opportunity and using it to my advantage, I quickly grabbed the ninja's PET Brand Skim Milk and squirted him with his own weapon. It seems that the impurities of PET Brand Milk doubles as an acid corrosive, burning the ninja in the most horrific way imaginable.
Seeing the death of his two comrades, the middle ninja ran off in fright and dismay. I dropped the distasteful PET Brand Milk I used to defeat the ninja and picked my Tuscan Brand Milk back up. Weary and worn, I limped over to the radishes, grabbed them, and walked towards the checkout counter to be greeted by Jason again. Jason knew I defeated his sprawl of ninjas and had no other choice but to checkout my radishes. The vegetables came to $2.64 after tax. I handed the boy three one-dollar bills and with a look of defeat in his eyes I told him, "Keep the change."
Finally, I obtained the two greatest loves in my life: Online-bought Tuscan Brand Whole Milk and radishes. With a sense of victory and dignity filling my lungs, I took a deep breath and drove home. After the journey came to a close I exited my car, with both Tuscan Brand Whole Milk and radishes at hand, and looked off into the distance to see my house in rubble. It appeared that as I was fighting the ninjas, Jason, the mastermind behind the shinbo attack, also launched a bomb to be fired onto my house. What made matters worse was that not only was my uninsured house ruined, but ninjas came and killed my entire family, my fiancé, and my little Chihuahua, "Roxie."
Though my life was ruined and all the people and materialistic things I loved were destroyed because of Tuscan Whole Brand Milk, I can honestly say it was worth buying the milk online to pay shipping fees and waiting days to obtain it. Thank you Tuscan Whole Brand Milk. You turned me from a boy into a man.