Pros: Good location, good maintenance, nice view from lake-facing units

Cons: Flea infestation problem, thin walls, ugly unit, high rent, noisy neighbors

Overall: Only live here if you really need something close to NSU

Rating: 3/10

The housing crash has led to rents being quite high in South Florida, unsurprisingly. When my wife (then girlfriend) began medical school in ‘07, she needed an apartment close to Nova Southeastern. Because she was moving out for the first time, I believe that her eye was obviously not as discerning of what would make a good apartment. Location and convenience being the dominant factor, she ended up signing a lease for around $950/mo. in rent for a roughly 650 sq. ft unit.

I obviously spent a lot of time there over the course of a 2-year lease, and we both shared the pains of the unforeseen poor factors that can plague an apartment. For one, her unit was just downright ugly. The fixtures and walls were so plain and motel-y that I ended up nicknaming the apartment “(Every)Days Inn.” Rough walls, popcorn ceiling, no central lighting in bedroom or living room, and bad thermostat (though to be fair the A/C was free and did blow cold like Siberia even in the summer). Moreover, the walls were very thin – we could hear our neighbors shouting, playing loud music, and even having sex. In so many ways, the experience was a lot like a cheap motel (the rent even averages out to $32/night!).

The kitchen almost deserves its own entire paragraph. It was a essentially a cramped space set off from the connection between the living room and bedroom. One thing that struck me about the unit was how low everything was, but I believe in retrospect that it’s because we got a handicap-accessible unit of some sort. The crappy laminate counter was really low and uncomfortable to sit at. The fridge was also annoyingly low and difficult to access comfortably, and didn’t even have an icemaker. The caulking and laminate on the sink-top began to come apart as moisture from the kitchen sink set in. The bathroom has somewhat the same story. Cramped, ugly fixtures, all around not a very fun bathroom. The faucet had this absolutely horrible squeak that I could not fix even after several attempts to access the squeak-zone with WD-40. The one saving grace was that when something did break, maintenance was usually pretty prompt.

Laundry was obviously conducted in a couple of laundry rooms nearby. The machines were ok but there were a couple of periods in which half the machines or more in a room would be out and you wouldn’t be able to do your laundry. In general, though, the only real bad part about laundry was hauling a 50+ pound basket up and down 3 stories.

On-property amenities included a pool, jacuzzi, volleyball court, and tennis court. The chief problem with the pool was that there was so much fauna around that the wind would constantly blow leaves, bugs, twigs, and dirt into the pool, so the pool was never quite clean. Generally, the amenities would also be occupied by large groups of annoying people, also precluding use by normal folks who want a quiet day.

That said, the one thing I did enjoy about the property were the walkways across it and the great West-facing view of a really nice golf course. Last I checked, the course was completely destroyed, so I don’t know what the future of the view is.

About a year into living there, my wife decided to get a dog. All was dandy and we and the dog enjoyed several walks across the property, until the dog hit about 6 months old and we were suddenly struck with a serious flea infestation. These were some of the most robust fleas in existence, completely immune to frontline and a LOT of the treatments that were used. The simple fact is that you can not stop a flea infestation in your house unless the source is treated, something that the management clearly did not do. No matter what we did – vacuum multiple times a day, treat the carpet with the most terrible poisons, put all kinds of treatments on the dog – the fleas kept coming relentlessly. Understandably, there’s a flea population boom, especially in the Spring-Summer seasons, but with a well-treated lawn an infestation can be controlled.

In closing, I would definitely recommend shopping around the area and even possibly considering a 5-10 minute commute before signing a lease at Cameron Cove. I understand that economic conditions drive rent up, but you can truly do much better for your money.

Pros: Great ready-made food, nice environment

Cons: Lines can get long; they sometimes run out of my favorite items; regular supermarket stuff can be expensive/lacking variety; short hours

Rating: 9/10

Fresh Market @ 18295 Biscayne Boulevard, Aventura, FL

I shop at this Fresh Market regularly, and by far I enjoy it the most of any supermarket I go to. Serving the hoity-toity high-end shoppers of Aventura, this supermarket carries lots of fresh produce as well as prepared foods (in addition to regular grocery stuff). In that regard, it whips Whole Foods’ ass – the hot case foods are as good as eating restaurant food, but are very affordable. There is also a great variety of prepared salads, sides, and sandwiches, in addition to a nice and tasty baked goods section. THE COOKIES. That is all.

My favorite Fresh Market item of all is the pizza – just pop it in the oven at 350F for as long as you want it crispy, and you have yourself a solid pizza for $5.99 (better than any chain and most of the pizza dives scattered across the city).

As a place to do your regular groceries, though, Fresh Market is lacking, especially if you don’t exactly have a free pocketbook. The general groceries section is obviously small and expensive compared to the mega-retailer options out there (e.g. Super Target), though common supermarket products are not marked up too high compared to just buying them at Publix. The registers are also usually sparsely staffed, meaning that if you’re picking up some food coming home from work, you’re going to find yourself waiting in a pretty sizable line.

The drink fridge is also pretty neat, as it offers a nice selection of alternatives to the regular COKE MOUNTAIN DEW ROCKSTAR sugar-fest offered at gas stations. The beer selection is somewhat lackluster for a "fresh foods”-type place, but they still offer some great beers (e.g. Dogfish Head 60 & 90 minute IPAs).

In all, I’m glad I have a Fresh Market so close by, as it’s a great place to pick up a nice treat, whether it’s for breakfast or dinner after a horrible Florida summer day.

Price: $133.50 after tax for Llumar tints

Pros: Fast, affordable, nice tints, nice job, good service

Cons: Lack of indoor, Brick & Mortar establishment

Rating: 9.5/10

Overall: You can honestly do really bad for tints in Miami, but you’ll be relieved if you get your tints from Steve.

OK, so I’m somewhat stupid for not having tints in my car after using it in South Florida for almost 4 years. So, this summer being one of the hottest in recent Florida history, I decided to finally splurge on some good tints for my car and reduce my likelihood of a seatbelt burn by 90%.

This being Miami, there are a LOT of crappy tinting places. You know the ghetto blaster cars you see with the purple tints? No, that’s not some sort of bizarre macho fashion statement, it’s just what happens to cheap tints over time. you know, the type of tints you get from a small-plaza “59.99 Tints” place on Flagler, Bird Road, 87 Ave or any of the other pseudo-suburban dives scattered across Miami.

So I knew from the start that I would have to pay good money for my tints, expecting something in the range of $120-$140. Indeed, all of the respectable places I found using good branded tints charged about that much.

So, I call Steve and we set up an appointment, and he quotes me about $125 and tells me he uses Llumar tints. To my dismay, when I showed up to the appointment I saw that he was operating from a general outdoor auto-detailing area behind Potamkin Honda, out of the back of his car. This is definitely not the type of thing that you’re happy to see when you go somewhere in Miami. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hot, so I was able to sit and wait outside and read, though the seating was a bit uncomfortable (rusty lawn chair).

That said, in the grand scheme of things, Steve ended up doing an amazing job on my tints and it only took him about an hour and a half, the last half-hour being some necessary drying before the car could go out in the sun. I could tell that he was very busy, but he still managed to do a top-notch job in a short amount of time. I now have high-quality, legal tints with lifetime service warranty that were installed perfectly. Such high-quality tints are amazing value for the price, as you save on fuel costs and discomfort. I’m not sure how long they take to financially pay off, but the price I paid was well-worth the reduced discomfort I experience from the Miami sun day-in, day-out.

I took something of a risk by going to Steve’s Custom Window Tinting, because there weren’t many reviews for it online, but in the end I’m glad I picked him to do the job. The flip side of him working a mobile operation is that his overhead is lower and he can offer great tints at a great price.

Price: $6-7 for 32 bars (28g each)

Pros: Nourishing, not too bad-tasting for an energy bar, very cheap

Cons: somewhat odd perfume-y taste initially; can be upsetting on a totally empty stomach

Rating: 7/10

I’m a snacker, especially when I study, so I’m always on the prowl for affordable snacks that carry a lot of power. One of my first “power snacks” was Whole Foods baked granola, which served me many-a-time as an emergency breakfast or mid-study snack. Costco, being the great place that it is, is great for my bulk healthy snack needs – I’ve bought cashews, dried edamame (soybeans), fiber plus bars, and lots more there. So when I came across Sunrise Energy Bars in the baked goods section and saw so many bars for around $7, I had to give it a try.

My first impression when I took the first bite was, “ah crap, I just wasted $7.” There was a strange taste that reminded me of perfume in the bar. However, after giving it a chance and having the bar more than once, the taste grew on me a little and I also felt quite nourished. Especially when I’m waking up early and working, my body typically shreds through my breakfast in 3 hours or less and by mid-day I’m feeling starved. The bars, in combination with other power snacks, add a nice touch. Each bar is about 130 calories, has 6g of fat, 2g of protein, and packs 10% of your DV of fiber (the biggest advantage, in my opinion). Each bar does have about 10g of sugar, but given the marketing of this as “natural,” it’s likely that little of it is refined sugar. Another marketed perk of the bar is the Omega-3 fatty acid content – 610mg per serving.

I can’t say I eat these too often, but in terms of value for the price, these are a great snack and I’m glad to have them around when I need them. Just beware one thing: whenever I eat these when I’m in “morning starving mode,” they give me a bit of gas. So make sure to test these out on a weekend first. Besides that, they could easily be a useful and cheap addition to your dietary routine.

Price: ~$14 including shipping.

Pros: Immensely practical; nice aesthetic design

Cons: Adhesive is very fussy and fails to hold up to proper use

Overall: There’s not much in the way of criteria for bag dispensers… if you want to buy the best in grocery bag dispensary, get this simplehuman unit (unless you absolutely need an adhesive wall-mounted dispenser).

Sick and tired of your bag of bags sitting under your kitchen sink? Want to upgrade your bag dispensary to match your hyper-modern stainless steel kitchen? SimpleHuman has taken the retail world by storm with its line of stainless steel products, so it’s no surprise that they’ve expanded into the grocery bag dispensary sector.

The unit comes with double-sided tape pre-attached to the back, and also comes with holes and appropriate mounting screws for a more permanent installation. How the grocery dispensary function works is elusively simple: you put bags in through one hole, and pull them out of another that is built to put a force between the inside and outside of the dispenser that will separate the grocery bags as you pull on them. Bags come out with a firm pull, which is only a problem if you’ve mounted the unit on a location that doesn’t handle that kind of force routinely (like a cabinet door, for example), or the unit is mounted improperly.

And about those mountings. Since I am a renter and want to minimize the amount of damage I have to repair upon moving out, I tried using the adhesive method. However, the force required to pull out the bags in some instances put a lot of pressure on the adhesive wall mount, which actually lifted up a layer of paint and caused an air bubble to form before breaking free from the wall. Considering I used the adhesive to avoid damaging the paint in the first place, that was a pretty poor outcome.

I ended up working around this by placing the bag holder horizontally on top of my refrigerator, and it works great now. When I have to throw something nasty away that I don’t want in the general garbage (food that will rot, dog poop, etc.), I now have a bag in my hand within seconds. As I always advise, making your life more efficient is a matter of adding little practicalities one-by-one. The $14 I spent on this item (including shipping) is well-spent, and this dispenser will be part of my kitchen for years to come.

Best places to buy online:

Rating: 9/10

Price: $7/10ml retail; as low as $4.20/bottle if you buy in higher quantity online

Pros: Solves many problems that crop up when your contacts are still in your eyes; primarily fixes dryness, but can also break up protein and help remove debris

Cons: Big price tag for a small quantity, especially if purchased retail; may not function well when stored under hot conditions

Overall: Rewetting drops are a must-have for anyone who wears contacts for long periods of time, and Opti-Free’s line of products almost always deliver. It wouldn’t be a surprise if these were the best rewetting drops on the market.

I have been wearing Proclear Omalficon-A 30-day disposable contact lenses for a year and half now, using Opti-Free Replenish Contact Lens Storage Solution with great success. My contact lenses are very rarely uncomfortable, even after extended wear. In fact, while my lenses are not FDA-approved for sleeping, I have been able to wear these lenses for several days at a time (by the suggestion of the eye doctor who first sold them to me). I only periodically store them in a case with Opti-Free Replenish with a special lens cleansing solution (Opti-Free Refresh).

Opti-Free’s Replenish (TM) Rewetting Drops play an important role in allowing me to abuse my eyes like so without earning myself corneal abrasions. When I wake up in the morning, I almost always treat my foggy contacts with a couple of drops and they clear up about 80-90% of the way instantly, the remaining fog clearing throughout the day as my eyes begin to naturally moisturize again. If the day draws on too long and my eyes begin to dry up, the drops usually cure any significant discomfort (though often times, discomfort after extended wear is inevitable). Just take note that rewetting drops are NOT a good substitute for good contact care, which means: clean contact storage case, good storage solution, and some special contact cleaner to also be used when your contacts are in storage.

The cost of a single 10 mL (1/3 fl oz.) bottle can range from a high of $7+ in a drug store to $5.59 on sale at Target. Fortunately for my penny-pinching ass, I was able to purchase 12 bottles on eBay for around $50, giving me the nice price of $4.17/bottle – and also the convenience of a large stock of eye drops when I need them. In fact, I usually keep one in different places; one in the bathroom, one by the computer, one in my messenger bag, one on my nightstand, and one by my wallet and keys to put in my pocket when I go out. This is very practical and I’m almost never stuck without eyedrops anymore. Just avoid storing the eyedrops in a place that gets hot, like your car during the day; in this case, I can’t really vouch for their effectiveness (the label has a suggested storage temperature).

When buying from eBay or another internet retailer, beware expiration dates.  While typically with most health products expiration dates don’t mean much (they only mean that the product was clinically tested for the duration between the expiration date and the product’s date of manufacture), this is still a product that is going into your eye that we are talking about. I made sure to ask my seller what the expiration dates were on the bottles, since I had seen a previous listing complete at a similar price with some bottles rapidly approaching expiration. The ones I ended up getting gave me a whole 2 years to use them up.

We all know the benefits of wearing contact lenses – that’s why we wear them. With a good set of fluids – storage solution, protein remover, rewetting drops – we can have those benefits at a higher level of convenience. Opti-Free Replenish Rewetting drops are a necessary part of your arsenal.

Best place to buy is ebay and only ebay. I’ve yet to find a better place. Make sure to purchase from reputable sellers and don’t forget to check for expiration dates.

Rating: 2/10

Pros: Better than Red Lobster; won’t make you throw up on site; you can draw on the table with crayons

Cons: Most dishes are bad, desserts are terrible, restaurant is very noisy… just a few minor drawbacks for a restaurant, you know?

Before I proceed with my review, I’m going to explain and justify each instance of my eating at The Macaroni Grill.

1) I was young and ignorant and still eating more than 0 times a year at McDonald’s.

2) Jennifer and I were really desperate and it was the closest place that wasn’t McDonald’s.

3) Persons from my family of origin gifted me a $50 card to eat there.

If you live in suburban sprawl like I do, you are probably familiar with those stale parts of town that typically pack a Walmart, an Office Max, a Chili’s, and a Red Lobster. Well, while those old holes were farting around in the 90s (special reference to Chili’s), some new competition moved in: Macaroni Grill.

I really like the authentic Italian feel of the place, from the noisy kitchen (if it ain’t noisy, it ain’t Italian, right baby?) to the fake “rustic” pillars to the non-stop Frank Sinatra loop. Oh wait, I don’t. In fact, it irritates me that every Italian restaurant has to be looping the same goddamn annoying music.

But on to the food. On my last visit, I went with my traditional lobster ravioli, which I ordered the last two or three times I went to Macaroni Grill. Why? Because it’s the only thing that was good and dropped me off anywhere in the neighborhood of pleased with my dining experience. Straying off the safe, beaten path at The Macaroni Grill is like straying off the beaten path in Cozumel, Mexico. You’re going to get some kind of mixture of getting gypped, food poisoning, airborne rubella, and a mugging.

The last time I ordered a Penne Whatevera it ended in gastric disturbance and refusal of the to-go box—a typically reasonable choice with foods of wide-ranging qualities. In fact, it is a virtually compulsive choice – I have a to-go threshold as low as 15% of the portion increasing upwards with respect to quality. I’m your everyday Shylock. Come to think of it, a pound of flesh might not have been so bad instead.

We ordered two desserts: the Dessert Ravioli and the Amaretto Apple Crispetti.

The technical term for “Dessert Ravioli” is actually “Ganache,” a word prominently featured in the etymology of “ganharrea.” The dessert was unbelievable. And by unbelievable, I mean, it was unbelievable why we would ever eat at a place like Macaroni Grill.

At first glance of my dessert, the Crispetti, I wasn’t sure whether to put it on or eat it what with all of these organic chopped-by-a-tribesman-with-a-sharp-stone hygiene products that Lush has been putting out. The same went for the Dessert Ravioli, a total mess within 5 seconds of touching it with my fork. In short, both desserts were too sweet, the vanilla ice cream it came with made it even too-sweet-er, and I felt sick after eating them. The price tag is not inconsequential, either, and it’s not just the dollars on the menu you have to worry about. Look at THIS abomination:

I added it to my food log, indeed. Within 2 hours, I had “printed out” said “food log.”

Is it not appropriate that the calories from fat value is 666? Because for a dessert that tastes that bad, these nutritional values are SATANIC.

Maybe it’s good pricing, one might say. But it’s about in the regular range for an Italian restaurant, really. If you want to eat bland pasta, go buy a friggin’ $2 box of pasta, boil some water, and throw some sauce on it. You can do so without the over-priced and over-sodiumed food of MG, and thankfully without the “wholesome Italian environment” that comes pre-stamped at the one of 232 locations in 42 U.S. states, Canada, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Japan, Taiwan and the United Kingdom. You may also require “mad skills” to do this. But come on, it’s PASTA. Boil em, cover em, stick em in a bowl.

Finally, attention MG: you may/may not have heard this before, but YOU CAN NOT GRILL MACARONI. Maybe the name’s meant to be something like the “George Foreman Grill.” Except that name represents something that’s not a restaurant, but actually a GRILL. [Note: I have just been informed that it is possible to grill pasta. It still sounds dumb.]

Ups: Fan addiction satisfaction; some chuckles

Downs: Droll plot development; terrible lack of realism in an un-entertaining context

Final score: 3 props/10

Having watched almost the entire series of SaTC, I was curious to see what the movie would be like—considering it would be a 2 hour film about a 6-season, 94-episode series. Needless to say, I saw what it was like. Needful to say, this is what it was like.

Let’s omit production, cinematography, costume & makeup quality, prop quality, and product placement from this entire review, because there’s no point in talking about it. This movie was done by a multimillion dollar studio with major commercial input (which is fantastic, of course). Unfortunately, quality of writing is usually stretched to the limit in these kinds of movies because demand is already guaranteed. If they can have a $55 million+ opening with a mediocre script, and maybe a couple million more with a serious script with the risk of disappointing the fans, they’re probably going to go with the former. They’re going to go with the certain payoff and appeal to the fangirls.

So that leaves the plot: “good times, bad times.” And that’s about it. Any of the good times which involved a romantic gesture by a male was accompanied by an extremely irritating movie theater audience either “awwwwwwww”-ing or, much more annoyingly, girlishly “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”-ing. I could not give the writers more credit for their commercial genius. The bad times? Well, most certainly to be followed by good times!

The movie comes with a mandatory wedding abandonment scene, after which you have no possible idea how reconciliation can or will occur. But worry not, it does. Oops. Uhh, SPOILER ALERT? Oh, fuck it. Just allow me to save you the pointless pondering about whether the directors would actually write a major romantic character out of an ending. They won’t, because they’re artistically fearful. They can’t risk breaking a cliché because it, again, could jeopardize the creamy sugar filling of the movie twinkie that the sugar-addicted fans crave.

The main plot surrounding the main character, sex columnist Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), and her on-off dream boyfriend of 10 years, John Preston a.k.a. “Mr. Big” (Chris Noth) is so horrendously improbable that it just makes the movie frustrating. And it’s not just the kind of improbability like a meteor destroying your car is improbable, but more like the “so much could have been done by anyone to avert disaster” kind of improbability.

The lack of realism doesn’t only come from outside standards. The movie’s results are unlikely from its own premises. Mr. Big expresses doubts about getting married because he’s afraid it’ll ruin his relationship with Carrie, and also is worried that the marriage will make him look bad (“do you know how this will make me look? This is my third marriage.”) Right, so the proper course of action is to ditch your eager bride in a highly publicized wedding, break her trust and humiliating her in the process. All this from a highly successful guy with millions of dollars? Foh!

Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), one of Carrie’s friends, purportedly provides the catalyst for Big’s cold feet by making a negative comment about the upcoming wedding. We’re supposed to believe that Miranda’s comment, which was made while she was clearly upset after speaking to her husband who just cheated on her, really made Big change his mind. Rather than make me feel like there was a big (no pun intended) and substantive reason for the events that followed, it made me feel as if there was a piece of masking tape holding the whole plot of the movie together.

Besides the content of the plot being totally bunk, the progression of the plot was obnoxious, at best. Again and again, we’re given “oh gnoes!” and “oh gyes!” plot devices, one right after another, peppered with random bits of humor. We’re persistently battered with highly unlikely and “suspenseful” nonsense. All Big needs to do is just talk to Carrie before the wedding, but.. he can’t get in touch with her! Charlotte’s young daughter finds her phone, but doesn’t know what to do with it. She doesn’t know to notify an adult about it. She just sticks it in her little purse where it will not be found in time to fix the situation.

Fear not, twinkie-eaters! In the end, they end up back together, once more for unlikely reasons. After the kind of soul-crushing event that was his abandonment of her for the third time, you’d expect that only a beam from the heavens or a time machine would ever put them together again. I would have been convinced if Carrie genuinely understood that there was a misunderstanding and that Big really intended to go through with it before she smashed him in the head with a bouquet (another instance in which it was super unlikely that he wouldn’t be able to communicate with her “no, I want to do it!”).

But no, there was none of that. There was some bullshit about a book they read together with love letters by famous men, during which Carrie and Big have an exchange about what Big’s letter would be. Oh my! What’s this? Big wrote you, Carrie? He never writes! After irrationally throwing your cell phone which contained voice messages that would have cleared up the whole ordeal into the ocean, you’re now totally interested in what he has to say in print.

So you run home and rifle through your mail. Then you realize it: it’s in your computer! It’s hidden in your email, his message. Oh dear, what’s the password? “Zor1blx2_”? No, it’s actually slightly stronger: “Love.” Wow. Some other ideas tossed around by the writers were “God,” “password,” “1234,” and “sex,” but ultimately the writers determined that “Love” would serve as an excellent plot device, fit into the general theme of the movie, safely protect Carrie’s data from hackers, and also work plot-wise into Jennifer Hudson’s cameo as Carrie’s assistant.

Another major disappointment was the plot involving infamous TV-slut Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall), who I thought contributed a lot in the series humor-wise. Samantha’s relationship with actor-“hottie” Smith Jared (Jason Lewis) fell flat. After a 5 year relationship, the beginning of which was very happy and enthusiastic during the series, their relationship ends in pretty much a 2 minute scene where Smith looks like he doesn’t give a fuck. Maybe the writers were trying to get across how their relationship got worn out (not surprising, considering the woman is a facelifted hag), but it just seemed more like a lazy copout. You don’t end a 5 year relationship in 2 minutes, even if every possible event leads up to it.

Now, on to the sex content: some actors were a bit coy (namely prudish Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) and her husband who had about six wrappings of sheets between them), while others were willing to bare bewbs. Also, you do get to see the silhouette of Samantha’s Spanish-stallion neighbor’s penis. He gets a record 4 sex shots in the film plus a shower flop-about—not bad for some no-name (Gilles Marini). His silhouetted wang is now immortalized in fan-obsession history.

Overall, the movie fell flat. It was a flick primarily aimed at fangirls/gays as a means of slaking their lust for a “where are they now?” update. Everything seemed to play out the way it did just because the writers said “ok, we need a good part here. And a bad part here. And a good part here. And a bad part here. And then a good part at the end.” In other words, it was just total mental masturbation and had no tangible relationship to reality. Sex and the City definitely fit the fangay paradigm, which is a condition that lends itself to another genre: science fiction. But what makes science fiction movies cool is that they show us cool shit like death stars, lasers, kick-ass space battles, freaky alien bitches, and so forth. This makes their lack of plausibility acceptable.

The Sex and the City movie is based in present-day New York and is passed off as being a believable story about people. No lasers. No freaky alien bitches. Just some worn-out hags being a part of a far-fetched sequence of events involving hollow characters. With no high energy weapons and special effects, you’d better be strong in, you know, STORY-TELLING ELEMENTS. As some may contend, the 4 women can be looked at as superheroes, but for chicks. Still, I’m not swayed: you can have shitty superheroes, too. Look at Superman—endless power, one-dimensionality.

Ultimately, if you absolutely need plot resolution, you have a good case for watching the movie. I certainly wouldn’t introduce anyone to the Sex and the City series with it, though, if I would at all.

Pros: I’m not dead. Red Lobster did not kill me.

Cons: Tap water residue flavored lobster; bland, unseasoned dish; retarded prices; hair cooked into biscuit; I feel sick

Score: 1/10

After countless humorous references, threats, sarcastic insults, and general camaraderie about denouncing the Red Lobster, something strange happened. “Shut up, or we’re eating at the Red Lobster tonight,” I’d say. But soon it developed into a strange kind of tension, not unlike sexual tension in which two people make edgy jokes with each other and laugh, though what they really want to do with each other is the content of the edgy jokes. One day, I had to break the ice with my girlfriend: “we make fun of it alot, but why don’t we try it? It’s lobster, how bad can lobster be?,” I open-mindedly mused. She felt the same way, so one free evening we decided to give it a try, to maybe see if we were just being irrationally prejudiced when we mock-vomited during Red Lobster commercials, threatening suicide as an alternative to eating there. If we’re going to be extreme in our facetious claims, we ought to be justified in some way, right?

Thus began our adventure to the crawl-spaces of the sea. We traveled over to the good old “Franchise Restaurant District Because of Low Land Values in the 90s” and found that the Red Lobster there is not run down or damaged in any way, does not appear to have any rodent infestations, and has stale-looking but clean furnishings. I was already thrilled enough by the fact that we did not flee in horror upon arrival (”keep driving, keep driving”), as we have on other occasions involving a skating rink and a bowling alley on Thursday nights. I felt hope in my heart.

The place wasn’t full, but it wasn’t empty either. Maybe I’m just being an unreasonable stickler for service worth the money I pay, but I felt that it took us an irregularly long period of time to get seated when there was no wait (about 10 minutes). At the front, to entertain us in the meantime was the aquarium with live lobsters, ripe for the slaughter. At this aquarium we stood and stared for the entire 10 minutes, like idiots. In our defense, the lobsters, while stacked on one another and unable to find privacy to take a shit (or whatever lobsters do), were anthropologically far more interesting than any of the patrons of the establishment. One of the employees came by and pulled a couple of lobsters out of the tank, most likely for the purpose of their GRUESOME DOOM. One lobster, in a last act of defiance, opened up its rubber-band-bound claw-arms as if to say “someone give me a freakin’ hug.” The employee walked past us quite closely and we squeezed together awkwardly to avoid the unfortunate accident of it touching us, as if to say “hell no.” Dude, they’re crustaceans. they don’t have a soul.

However, there is something to be said about the cruel method with which the lobsters are prepared. IT’S FUCKING SWEET. First, they take it from its overcrowded lobster orphanage, then they throw it, alive, into a pot of boiling water. Next, it SHRIEKS as it is boiled to death. Lastly, its lifeless head and limbs are removed, and its entrails are pulled out of its shell for proper presentation. My only grievance with this method is that it gives animal rights activists sympathy ammunition: “it’s SHRIEKING, like MAKING NOISE, like OUR VOICES DO. Do YOU want to be put in boiling water?” Yeah, it’s true. If I was a mindless sub-sentient sea creature, I wouldn’t really want to- BECAUSE I WOULDN’T REALLY CARE ABOUT OR KNOW ANYTHING. Besides, it is a little weird to be watching something animate and alive, and then be eating it less than 30 minutes later. Worst of all, it’s very confusing for children who just watched The Little Mermaid, to the point where they’ll become animal rights activists after seeing their new lobster pal Sebastian in father’s mouth. But I digress.

We cased out the menu, and gazed in awe at the prices, which were not Denny’s-esque as we expected, but quite high. We ordered the “Lobster Lover’s Dream” item. This exquisite culinary experience features one Maine Lobster, one Rock Lobster, and a shrimp and lobster pasta. Honestly, it sounds appealing. I like shrimp. I like lobster. I like pasta. I like shrimp and/or lobster pastas. “This ought to be an orgy of hedonistic indulgence,” said I.

What a disaster. The pasta, which I thought in no way could go wrong, was flavorless and drenched in a crème, probably canned and milky trans fat. The Rock Lobster was gargantuan, and, in appropriate positive proportion, disgusting. Its flavor was of boiled water, and its texture can be described as squeaky. The lobster possessed no flavor of its own, but of the utensils and the cooking method. It’s like going to a barbecue and eating steak that tastes like the grill more than a cow.

What the hell do the lobsters have to shriek about? They’re not the ones who have to eat rock lobster. Then again, when they’re getting boiled to death, they must be tasting the same 80s-plumbing-shit-water-taste that I get from eating them.

The mashed potatoes we ordered as a side were decent. Mashed potatoes in 19th-century Ireland were also decent, so this isn’t really a statement of comparative merit.

Now, let’s talk for a second about an interesting facet of our dining experience: the biscuits. They tasted alright, in as much as the most fattening and buttery white-flour products ought to taste like fucking heaven. If something is going to be so unhealthy, it better be delicious, and the Red Lobster biscuits are less than mediocre. But, let’s talk about one specific feature of the biscuit: the hair cooked into it. Yes. There was a HAIR in my biscuit. One might ask, “couldn’t it have simply fallen on your food from you?” Indeed, that is a very plausible explanation, one we ourselves posited. To test our fine hypothesis, I attempted to pull the hair out. Now, for those of you who know hair, it’s usually so light that when you touch it, it sticks to your finger, or flies away. I touched this hair, and it did not budge. I pulled the hair, and it did not budge. The hair, was cooked, INTO, my biscuit. Lacking any other option besides feeding it to the lobsters, which clearly would have been an issue of animal rights, I gouged it out with the water-spotted tinware. Then, almost as in spite, as if to say, “I am invincible!,” I ate the rest of the biscuit, to show the Red Lobster that I had seen their challenge and was not backing down. This was a fight, possibly to the death. But I’d be damned if I let a D-rated restaurant scare me into submission, and I’d be damned if I let it kill me. As you can tell by this review, I fought the Red Lobster and lived to tell the tale.

The more I think of it, the more the Kentucky Fried Lobster analogy holds. Grease-wad biscuits; mashed ‘taters; lowest quality possible of the food class listed in title. The only distinction I can really think of is pricing. Frankly, I thought the place would be cheap. And certainly it was: in the quality sense, but not in the monetary sense. Our Finger Lickin’ Good Crustaceous Tropical Paradise carried a rock-lobster-hefty price tag of $33. Yes. $33.

“Maybe you just don’t like lobster.” Rest assured, that possibility was well-controlled in this experiment. Miccosukee Resort & Gaming’s $7 Steak & Lobster (yes, $7) produces a smaller, but worlds more pleasing lobster than RL does. AND YOU GET A FREAKING STEAK TOO, and biscuits made of bread. Bonefish Grill serves twin lobster tails for $27, with better sides, better service, better ambience, and, of course, better lobster. Look, I’m not claiming to be a lobster connoisseur. I admit that I go to restaurants and I don’t order the lobster because it’s too expensive. Nonetheless, you don’t need to be a wine connoisseur to point out that a wine tastes not of French grapes, but of a French dude’s grapes.

TIME FOR THE DEDUCTION BASED ON RIGGED PREMISES FOR HUMOR GAME!:

1) Observation: trash eat at Red Lobster.

2) Ubiquitous cliche: “you are what you eat.”

3) Conclusion: therefore, Red Lobster is [blank].

OK, so I just made a mediocre zinger at the proletariat’s expense. But hey, instead of trying to acquire means of production, they swing by the Red Lobster and plunk down a day or two’s pay on some second-rate oceanic eats. It’s just a gigantic paradox to me. There are so many other places where the same money can go so much farther.

So anyway, what’s this shrieking thing like? I never got to hear it, which is one of my chief regrets of this visit besides the visit itself. I imagine the wail of a NAZGUL, but I doubt that’s right. Is it like, a SKREEEEE? or just a high pitched, shrill noise, like moving styrofoam packaging across itself quickly? I know I could probably watch this on youtube, but it’s not the same. I want to experience it real-space, real-time. Until then, I would like someone to describe it to me so I can prepare appropriately.

In short, I would rather kill myself than eat at the Red Lobster again. In due time, my lobster loving dream turned into a lobster shitting nightmare. And, for the record, I will continue to mock-vomit when I see a commercial on TV. Saying that this franchise smells and tastes like my balls is a treat (Note that’s two testicle-tasting references in the same review. I can’t help that it’s appropriate!)