Monday, October 6

CDP Top 30 Of All-Time ('06-'08) - #25.

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#25 - "Eat Me, Cake."
(Originally Published February 15, 2008.)

Grape Death Flavor.

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up Cake's 'B-Sides & Rarities' disk. Cake has been one of my favorite bands for over a decade now, and I wasn't about to let a collection of cover songs and throwaways slip my grasp, regardless of their previous mediocre album. One trip to Best Buy and $10 later, it was mine.

When I got home, I began tearing the CD out of the plastic as the Missus began to prepare dinner directly behind me in the kitchen. As I opened the jewel case, I was instantly hit with an almost indescribably putrid stench. It was as if a tractor tire decided to have sex with a jar of grape jam while a rouge turd worked them both over with a blowtorch and fine oils. It was hellish.

Not thinking for a second that this scent had wafted out of a compact disk case, I quickly turned around to see what the Missus was up to, and find a kind way to opt out of tonight's dinner plans.

"What...in the hell...are you cooking?"

"Nothing yet, why?"

As soon as the last syllable of the last word escaped her mouth, the molten rubber/jam jar/turd gangbang parade reached the inside of her nostrils. She recoiled, as we both stood there for a fraction of a second, completely dumbfounded and unsure of what was going on. It was only a matter of time before the accusations started to fling over which one of us had crapped in their respective pants.

Having never experienced such an unholy reaction to opening an album (with the exception of anything recorded by Something Corporate), we both cocked our heads and slowly wandered over to the open jewel case, as if it were a bomb ready to spew further noxious gas forth. I pressed my nose to the liner notes and inhaled deeply.

Have you ever been blasted with pepper spray? Well, I have, and this was as close as I wanted to get again. I immediately stopped breathing, my eyes began to water and my mouth dropped open. I was one-hundred percent immobilized; women seriously need to start carrying copies of this album around with them for protection. What in the hell was going on?

It was as if we were watching an alien being hatch from a giant egg on our breakfast bar. "This can't be happening!" I yelled. "What IS it!?!" screamed the Missus, hands pressed against her face. I didn't know at the time what had turned 'B-Sides & Rarities' into a virtual Pandora's Box of ass matter and anguish, but I also knew that it wasn't allowed to stay in the house any longer.

I grabbed a pair of tongs and threw the entire contents of the jewel case into the freezing cold garage. Whatever the problem was, it could work itself out there while me and the Missus began the slow and painful healing process back inside the house. She hit the computer and I reached for the Clorox 'kitchen cleansers.'

A few minutes later, we had determined through Wikipedia that the 'B-Sides & Rarities' album boasted a grape-flavored 'scratch-and-sniff' booklet (one of five different flavors). It is my assumption that the fine folks in Cake didn't exactly 'sample the wears' before these bad boys hit the assembly line, nor could accurately judge what the booklet would smell like after several weeks encased in shrink-wrapped plastic. No band that enjoys making money and pleasing fans could have been a part of something so heinous and wrong. Had I been driving a car when I opened that album, you'd probably be reading my obituary right now.

Still, two weeks after the incident, the case, booklet and disk continue to sit in the garage, atop a case of bottled water. Every day, I come home and give them a passing sniff to see if they had learned their lesson, and each day they continue to fail miserably. I refuse to have this...thing...touch anything inside my house or vehicle until every last microfiber of stink has been frozen out of it. I don't even care if the disk itself eventually shatters like a stick of baseball card chewing gum; it's not welcome in Headquarters until it resembles the normal and respected CD I thought I had purchased.

Each night, I wake up in a cold sweat imagining that it somehow made its way into the house, tainting my music collection, computer and office with its own original brand of Sacramento-based, grape-flavored nightmare fuel. If my iMac smelled like this album, you can bet your ass I'd be dragging it to the curb come garbage day.

Why, Cake? Why?




Sound off in the comments section and enjoy your day.

Comments:
Have I missed the story of why were you attacked with pepper spray? Englighten me, please!
 
I don't think I've heard that one either.
 
So funny, you're posts make my day! Thank you for having such an insigtful and entertaining blog! Funny ass shit every week.
 
Hi,

Congratulations on being in the top three for the Bloggers choice Awards. My blog is in the top three in the education category

I just voted for you. Could you please return the favor at:
http://www.bloggerschoiceawards.
com/blogs/show/21620

Thanks,

SpEdLaw2
http://specialeducationlawblog.blogspot.com
 
Blam?
 
1. When I was in college, a can of mace went off in some kids bag and I more or less walked right into it. It sucked hard; never let someone tell you that pepper spray or mace won't completely immobilize you, because it will. I didn't even get a direct hit and it still put me out of commission for a good 10 minutes.

2. Thanks, Katelin! Don't be a stranger to the CDP, dear!

3. This is suspected BLAM!...I'll allow it...for now.
 
That semi-acronym - BLAM! - makes me think of that one song by Onyx.

This random comment brought to you by Blammo.
 

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