Friday, January 20, 2006

Mr. Pibb, Put it in your HEAD

As I prepare for the tourney, the foremost thing in my mind is Mr. Pibb. That't right, the delicious Coca Cola product which may or may not at some point in time belonged to Pepsi-cola. I strolled across the street fr the privilege of overpaying for a packaged skinke & ost, sorry, ham & cheese sandwich, made with equal parts pickels and mayo... and whilst there I picked up a carton of cigarettes for a friend from home.

I was horrified when I did the math and figured out they cost about $60, give or take a buck. Smokers here get fleeced even worse than in Massachusetts, which is saying something. Not that I'm promoting smoking or anything, but c'mon, emphezema shouldn't be that costly, where is one supposed to come up with the scratch for an iron lung in ten or seventy years?

What hit me as I paid for the rods was that the price didn't matter, my friend was going to pumped to get her hot little hands on something she adored and had zero access to. My next thought was a longing for Mr. Pibb.

I don't even really drink soda anymore, but I'd gladly lay down a chunk of change for a case of the Pibb. For those not in the loop, Mr. Pibb is sort of in the neighborhood of a Dr. Pepper, but just a tad less sweet and a little more carbonated, then again, it could be in my head. One thing that's not in my head is Mr. pibb. When you find something you really really enjoy, why not just get the damn thing, I mean life is too short as it is.

I believe they stopped making Pibb somewhere in the neighborhood of three years ago. It unceremoniously disappeared from the shelves without a whisper and was replaced by the spawn of a demon, "Pibb Extra". Pibb Extra tastes like a Mr. Pibb that you accidentally dropped 6 tablespoons of sugar into.

Ah, the old days, if I could only have them back... a delicious Pibb, or occasionally a 50/50 Pibb/Coke blend...THAT my friends was living.

Even more senseless was the abandonment of one of the great soda mascots of all time. The Pibb can design was half responsible for its greatness. There was a picture of this cartoonish lunatic with his head at an angle and his hair standing straight up, screaming, 'PUT IT IN YOUR HEAD!!!"

The commercials were awesome, "Mr. Pibb...put it in your HEAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDD!!!"

How can you not love that.

Occasionally I will run into a place that still has Mr. Pibb in the fountain, but be not fooled children, it is... DUNDUNDUNNNNNNNN... Pibb Extra.

...bastards... those bastards...

You can put Mike Greenwell in number 9, but that doesn't make him Ted Williams.

Oh well, T minus 45 minutes and counting. I'd better get down there and practice looking calm.

It just dawned on me that this is a long way to come to get booted ut of a tourney in an hour, should that happen... however, it is also a long way to come to play scared, so vive la HOLD 'EM!


Blogger GB said...


You flew all that way to drink cat piss with a kick? That crap's worse than Dr. Pepper. There is a reason it doesn't exist anymore buddy.

1:03 PM  

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