Monthly Archives: September 2012

Kras Batons

Kraš Batons

For more than a year, we’ve had protesters outside the FBFCR office. Apparently, there are some people who think the Federal Bureau of Foreign Culinary Relations is hoarding all of the strange snacks and not sharing them with those who are rightfully deserving of fresh rambutans. As it happens, we are quite generous with our foreign foodstuffs, as anyone within the inner circle of exclusive edibles will gladly tell you. Just the other day, a whole bag of fish crackers was dispensed at the dressage test. We even shared a few with one of the other dressage horses, since ours was still weighted down with Waffleloos.

Clearly these protesters don’t understand that we worked day and night to inherit the money we used to purchase Giant Chocky Brand Sticks, Tao Kae Noi Tempura Seaweed, Toothpick Auto-Case Birds, and GoJo Hands Free Adjustable Headsets. Not to mention the incredible burden of waiting for the dividend check to arrive so we can afford to buy some real food for the dressage horse.

Until recently, we’ve been able to hold off the protesters by using the Pink Whale Bubble Gun, but it ran out of bubble stuff and the personal shopper hasn’t been able to get us any more. She said something about having to take her kids to the doctor. Isn’t that what nannies are for?

With no bubble replenishment in sight, we had to seek an alternative method to keep those people at bay. The limousine service whisked us away from the rear entrance of the FBFCR office and delivered us directly to the local ethnic foods store. There we found what appeared to be the perfect protection against the pesky proles: Kraš Batons. What better way to fend off the hoi polloi than with a bunch of batons?

Upon returning to the FBFCR office, we opened the package and found it full of filled wafers. These wafers were quite tasty, and there was no shortage of fluffy filbert filling. Unfortunately, they proved less effective against the angry mob of protesters that was still seated on the front steps. Hitting them with the Kraš Batons only seemed to make them angrier, and throwing the batons at them failed miserably due to an absence of aerodynamics.

Finally, in a last-ditch effort to rid ourselves of the rabble (and finally let the dressage horse get some sleep), we hurled a whole handful of Kraš Batons at nothing in particular. This accomplished nothing in particular, but the Kraš Batons landed in quite an unusual pattern. They almost looked like letters on the ground, which appeared to spell “MMRDC GRSVNR”. We tried to capture a photograph of this, but the personal assistant who normally handles such things was busy polishing the solid-gold bust of yours truly that adorns the entryway. By the time he was finally finished with this task, the dressage horse had already eaten all of the Kraš Batons. In any case, this event was clearly a coincidence. It’s the sort of thing that probably happens every day, and we don’t expect to ever think about it again.

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A1 Tropics Fish Crackers (Salt & Vinegar)

The following message was recently received at the headquarters of the Federal Bureau of Foreign Culinary Relations:


We represent the Sovereign Thalassic Hegemony, and we will no longer be used as prawns in your crappie attempts to sell fish-based snacks to denizens of the airworld. We trout that you will respect this ultimatum. Should you choose to ignore it, your people will find themselves singing a different tuna as they witness the anger of the Hegemony!

Of course we ignored this piscine protest; the Hegemony re-surfaces every few years with an attempt at ichthyic intimidation, and nothing ever comes of it.

Very Angry Fishies!

Imagine our surprise when we came across this package of A1 Tropics Fish Crackers (Salt & Vinegar Flavor). There on the bag was a picture of none other than the Capoluccio himself: the supreme leader of the Sovereign Thalassic Hegemony, and he didn’t look happy. This came as a great shock, since the members of the Hegemony have never managed to make good on their threats in the past. Remember that time in 2004 when they were going to make everyone on Earth eat a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich? That plan never made it out of the bathypelagic zone. And it’s a good thing too; even Elvis wouldn’t have wanted to eat a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich.

Never being the types to shrink from a strange snack, we took the Capoluccio’s choleric countenance as a challenge and consumed these crackers. They were quite tasty, and we highly recommend them in spite of the furious fish that appear on the bag. The net result of all this is that yet another threat from the Sovereign Thalassic Hegemony has proven to be nothing more than a bunch of puffery from a bunch of pufferfish.

On an unrelated note, someone scrawled some very unusual graffiti on the inside of the office aquarium overnight. It read “Momordicae Grosvenori”. It’s probably nothing. Just a joke by the cleaning people, I’m sure.

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There Was Disco in Germany

Several months ago, Armenian Fungus Cake first broke the story of Persian Hip-Hop. This shocking revelation rocked the music world and led to copycat crimes throughout Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan, and Georgia (the one next to Alabama). Hot on the heels of this acoustic anomaly comes another terrifying truth: there was disco in Germany.

When you think of disco, you probably think of artists such as the Bee Gees, Kool & the Gang, or any of those other names that come up when you search for “best disco artists”. You probably don’t think of Dschingihs Khan (or Genghis Khan as it would be pronounced in English). That is unless you’re German, in which case you should probably stop reading now before I make any more enemies. There are already a few nations (and disputed territories) in the Caucasus region where my name is a common household insult, and I’d hate to see the trend spread throughout Europe.

For those of you who’ve never heard of Dschinghis Khan, they were (surprise, surprise) a disco group that was popular in the 1970s. They often sung about historical figures and famous places. The video you see here is their tribute to the great Russian city of Moscow. Go ahead, watch it. I’ll wait.

How am I even supposed to follow up on that? Should I comment on the costumes, or the dance steps, or that mustachioed Hungarian fellow in the green satin suit? Is there anything I could possibly say that isn’t already completely expressed by the video itself?

Actually there is one thing I should say, considering the dreadful dreams that could be induced by what you’ve just seen. It’s a reminder of the Armenian Fungus Cake motto that you’ve never heard because I just invented it: “Your nightmares are not my problem.” And speaking of nightmares, be glad that I didn’t share the video of the eponymous song about Genghis Khan (or Dschinghis Khan) instead. That is unless you prefer the green Hungarian fellow with cladding that is a bit…scantier.

If you’ve gotten this far, you’re not German, so you probably want to know what they’re singing. Here goes:

Moscow, strange and full of secrets, towers made of red gold, cold as ice.
But Moscow, the ones who really know you, know that a hot fire burns within you.
Cossacks, raise, raise, raise your glasses! Natasha, you’re beautiful! Hey, comrade, a toast to life! To your health, brother, hey, brother!
Moscow, Moscow! Throw your glasses at the wall! Russia is a beautiful land!

Moscow, Moscow! Your soul is so grand. At night the devil runs loose there.
Moscow, Moscow! Love tastes like caviar. There are girls to kiss there.
Moscow, Moscow! Come on, let’s dance on the table Until the table breaks!
Moscow, gateway to the past. Mirror of the time of the czars. Red as blood.
Moscow, the one who knows your soul knows that love burns there as hot as flame.
Cossacks, raise, raise, raise your glasses! Natasha, you’re beautiful! Hey, comrade, a toast to love! To your health, girl, hey, girl!
Moscow, Moscow! Throw your glasses at the wall! Russia is a beautiful land!
Moscow, Moscow! Your soul is so grand. At night the devil runs loose there.

Moscow, Moscow! La, la, la…
Moscow, Moscow! Vodka is drunk straight and cold, it makes you live to a hundred years old!
Moscow, Moscow! Papa, your glass is empty, but there’s more left in the cupboard!
Cossacks, raise, raise, raise your glasses! Natasha, you’re beautiful! Hey, comrade, a toast to love! To your health, brother, hey, brother!
Moscow, Moscow! Throw your glasses at the wall! Russia is a beautiful land!
Moscow, Moscow! Your soul is so grand. At night the devil runs loose there.

Moscow, Moscow! Love tastes like caviar. There are girls to kiss there.
Moscow, Moscow! Come on, let’s dance on the table until the table breaks!

Mustachioed green guy isn’t coming to get you. Really, he’s not. Just go back to sleep. Nothing to worry about at all.

Categories: Wacky Weirdness | 1 Comment

GoJo Hands Free Adjustable Headset

*Almost* Useful

Morning, readers

We at Armenian Fungus Cake understand the convenience of cell phones. We live busy lives, constantly on the go, trying new foods and beverages and making strange, but astute observations, and we need to be constantly communicating. However, sometimes, it’s hard to manage our lives when we have to hold those cumbersome, palm sized cell phones up to our faces. Some people remedy this with bluetooth headsets, which serve as miniature phones that rest in the user’s ear, and allow them to make and receive calls. They are very popular, even though they make the user look rather ridiculous, albeit successful.

But for some, like TV host Joe Gray (who hosts an infomercial about his own product–this product, for that matter, and nothing else), Bluetooth headsets just won’t do. Maybe they’re too expensive. Maybe you’re a selective Amish person, and you only use some technology. Maybe Bluetooth is simply too practical, and something else is simply a better alternative.

Well, for those people, TV host Joe Gray, who, as mentioned before, only hosts his own infomercial, invented the GoJo, which he humbly named after himself.

What exactly is the GoJo (Hands Free Adjustable Headset)? Does it use Bluetooth technology? Is it easy and convenient, even for someone not as genetically superior as TV host Joe Gray? Or is it none of these things?

TV Host Joe Gray watches you undress–his eyebrows approve

Well, it doesn’t use Bluetooth technology, as Bluetooth just makes too much sense, remember? It doesn’t make the user look like a professional idiot, either–just a regular idiot. In reality, the GoJo (used and created by TV host Joe Gray) is a glorified headband with a suction cup on one end and an annoying rubber tab on the other. The user puts his or her phone on the suction cup, and puts on the GoJo (by TV host Joe Gray) like he or she would a headband. Then, they can communicate on the phone with it held up to their ear by the GoJo (really, courtesy of TV host Joe Gray), which is held in place by the rubber tab, which uncomfortably rests on the temple, adjacent to the ear.

This is really the only function it serves, as in order to answer calls, make calls, or do anything else, the user has to remove the GoJo (did I mention it was created by TV host Joe Gray) and use their phone normally–with the exception of  the strange headband thing anchored to the back of said device. The GoJo (I guess you didn’t hear–it’s by TV host Joe Gray) packaging also makes the claim that it works for all phones, which isn’t exactly true, as anything that doesn’t have a completely flat surface doesn’t stick with the vanilla GoJo (TV host Joe Gray created it), and the adapter isn’t terribly functional. I also tried using the GoJo (TV host Joe Gray is the proprietor of this product) with my telephone from the 1950s, but it just dragged the GoJo

Some of those “Namely” people

(TV host Joe Gray…etc) off of my head and fell onto the floor, cracking a tile.

So, maybe the GoJo (TV host Joe Gray) isn’t exactly the best method of hands free communication, but for some, namely those who hate convenience and not looking completely stupid, it is simply the only option.



Categories: Curious Commodities | 10 Comments

Limca Soda

Limca Soda

The bottle you see here contains 300ml of Limca soda. Or at least it did, when the picture was taken. Limca is a lemon-lime soda from India, but we found it on a little shelf in a local market. As far as citrus sodas go, it was rather lackluster, with nothing to really set it apart from other similar drinks. It did, however, inspire the creation of the Limca Book of Records, which is an Indian version of the better known (and more inebriated) Guinness volume.

The bottle itself (which is “for beverage use only”) appeared quite worn, and at first this seemed to be a result of the long trip from India. In fact, these bottles are normally returned to the Limca plant for cleaning and re-use, so it obviously wasn’t the first time this particular bottle had been used to hold obscure lemon-lime soda. It’s a bit sad, really. This poor bottle ended up stranded thousands of miles from home, all because it was unlucky enough to find itself in a crate destined for a strange and foreign land. Someone could probably make a cut-rate direct-to-DVD movie about that, and then disclaim all knowledge of it when it turned out even worse than they expected.

In case you were wondering, the producer of Limca lemon-lime soda is none other than…the Coca-Cola Company. Really. Who knew?

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Karolina Jadro Wafers

Karolina (not Kraš) Jadro Wafers

Several days ago, the Federal Bureau of Foreign Culinary Relations received an unsettling report. Intelligence obtained from a captured Zakuskaslav agent revealed the possibility that snack foods were being produced in Croatia by an entity other than Kraš. This required immediate investigation, since a culinary competitor could risk destabilizing the Croatian confection cartel.

After several painstaking minutes of research, we discovered a worrisome reference in an ancient tome of sugary lore: The Legend of Karolina. The legend spoke of a young girl who learned the dark art of pastry-making from a mysterious man who claimed to be her father. She then used this knowledge to produce tempting treats that would lure hapless victims away from the safety of Kraš and into the waiting jaws of an ancient twelve-eyed beast whose name contained 48 consonants and only two vowels.

Realizing the serious nature of this situation, the FBFCR rushed into action and combed the aisles of the local ethnic food market in search of this mythical morsel. As we searched through endless shelves of Kraš products, we suddenly glimpsed an unfamiliar face. It was Karolina herself, on a package of Jadro Wafers!

The package bore a Bowdlerized version of the Legend of Karolina:

Being a daughter of a renowned backer and confectioner, Karolina inherited her love and passion for making pastry when she was just a little girl. As a child, she spent every day with her father in the bakery, where she learned all the secrets of the art of making pastry. She later converted this tradition into today’s products and recipes. To the present day, the name Karolina stands for excellent products on the highest quality, carefully prepared according to traditional recipes.

That all makes it sound so nice and harmless. But with the delicate balance of the Croatian confection cartel hanging in the balance, the real legend (the one with the twelve-eyed beast) seemed like it could be coming true.

Unlike most Kraš wafers, these Karolina (not Kraš) Jadro Wafers were a combination of 2 flavors, and this lived up to the package’s proclamation of perfection. Just as foretold in the prophecy, Karolina (not Kraš) has produced a pastry that’s sure to compete with the established dreadnought of desserts (that would be Kraš). One can only hope that the consonant-clad monster remains a thing of legend.

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