Von Dutch Energy Drink

by Danialla Turbova
fearless fashionista
BYN sexy fashions wire

By now you know Von Dutch Originals.

You've seen the name scrawled across hip people from Queer Eye's Carson to Ashton Kutcher to the sultry sorostitutes at your local state university.

And you've read about how the fashion industry co-opted the name and art of Kenneth Howard (aka Von Dutch), an underground car striper and notorious racist from the 1950s, in order to sell $50 trucker hats to those hip people. And, like this fearless fashionista, you know that Von Dutch is last year's style, and the hip have moved on to better hats.

Well, now you can expect to see those same sultry sorostitutes trading in their beloved Red Bulls for something a little hipper. The ironic pseudo-anti-fashion of Von Dutch Originals has made its way from upscale boutiques to the coolers at 7-Eleven.

An unholy alliance of Coca-Cola and Rockstar has spawned Von Dutch Energy Drink. If you don't believe it (and this fearless fashionista can't blame you for not believing something so ridiculous), read more here.

This news agency's founder and CEO once wrote reviews of energy drinks during his humble beginnings as an online intern. Today, he can afford to pay a fearless fashionista with an exotic-sounding name to do it for him.

I usually write about the hottest shoes, and, as a part-time supermodel, I do my best to avoid drinks with sugar in them (as well as regular drinks and most foods, except foods that are drugs). But this idiot paid me to do a job, so I must live up to my title and overcome my fear of getting fat just this once.

Here's the review:

Von Dutch Energy Drink
-Danialla Turbova

The Claim:

"Von Dutch is an ultra premium, amazing tasting, high octane formulation designed to rev up the day or kick start the night. From the streets of Los Angeles to the Nightlife of New York, Von Dutch is a classic symbol of individuality and represents the spirit of personal expression."

Reading that off the side of the can nearly made this fearless fashionista gag.

Impressive stats:

For the sake of comparison, I'm pitting VD up against Monster, which the boys around the Big Yellow Nasty office buy in bulk, and Red Bull, which is the energy drink of choice at the upscale European clubs I frequent.

The 16-ounce can has twice the vitamin B6 of Red Bull (since it's twice the size). That's two-and-a-half times the B6 of Monster.

The National Institute of Health says B6 helps normalize blood sugar levels, converts tryptophan to niacin, allows hemoglobin to carry more oxygen, and is essential for protein and red blood cell metabolism.

What does all this mean? Damn it, Jim, I'm a supermodel, not a scientist! All I know is that there's an old supermodel saying, "B6, be sexy." All this sciency stuff makes my head hurt, but it also sounds energizing.

Also, no high fructose corn syrup. HFCS is a big no-no for models.

Here's an interesting fact for you naughty nutritionistas, vitamin B3 is the same as niacin. B5 is the same Pantothenic Acid. Knowing that, you'll see that Von Dutch's vitamin content per serving is exactly the same as Red Bull's.

Coincidence? This fearless fashionista thinks not!

The bonus:

If you own this hat, the can will match your outfit perfectly.

Sadly, it clashed to high hell with my new Kate Spade handbag.

The taste:

If you put me in a designer blindfold from Dior, I might not be able to tell the difference between this and Red Bull.

I wanted to see how it mixes with vodka, with rum and with Jager, but I couldn't. More on that later.

The energy:

I've had Monster, so I know what top expect from a tall can of buzz juice.

But despite the fact that these guys stole Red Bull's recipe, the energy was just a hair shy of what it should have been. I'd send it to the lab for more tests, but all my lab does is test cosmetics on baby bunnies.

The verdict:

Britney and Ashton, your energy drink has arrived.

But the rest of us can spot a fake. It's fitting that an energy drink that has co-opted the flavor and nutrition of Red Bull would be named after a fashion company that co-opted the name of a dead car artist.

We trendy club-goers will stick with our Red Bulls, thank you very much.


Writer's note: While writing this review, I was in Phoenix for a shoot. I found one of these drinks at the 7-Eleven on Baseline and Mill in Tempe, but I have not been able to find another since. The reluctantly friendly Indian man at 7-Eleven told me they only got one case as a promotion, and he didn't know when he'd be getting more. Stressed out about my review deadline, I bought a limited-edition white chocolate Reese's Big Cup.

I went to more 7-Elevens and Circle Ks, but all I wound up with were limited-edition coffee Kit Kats, lime Almond Joys, white chocolate Take 5s and peanut Reese's Pieces. By the end of the day, I couldn't fit into my lingerie, and my JCPenney shoot was cancelled.


Editor's note: Danialla Turbova is recovering at a junk food rehabilitation clinic and spa resort in Wikiup, Ariz. Big Yellow Nasty Legal Services refutes all "they made me eat it" claims in her pending lawsuit.

Funny office observation

BYN office humor wire

Here at Big Yellow Nasty, we take our jobs very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that there is nothing even remotely funny about the Big Yellow Nasty office culture or the behavior of Big Yellow Nasty employees, all of whom receive adequate pay and excellent benefits.

In our newsgathering, however, we often encounter reports of comical happenstance and funny ritual at other offices (not our office).

One such report involves people who bring their lunch to work. Hey, what's with people who bring their lunch to work?

More often than not, numerous food items dictate that these people bring some sort of container for - you guessed it - containing the items. A sandwich, perhaps? A Capri Sun?

Regardless of personal lunch item choice, the container of choice for offices (not our office) tends to be a soft, insulated cooler bag.

The purpose of the insulated cooler bag is to keep food cold when it cannot be refridgerated. Meats, for example, cheeses, mayonaises, beers and other things people bring to eat at work (not our work) can get downright rancid between 8 a.m. and lunch. And nobody likes a rancid mayonnaise!

The space-aged thermal insulation sure did the job in grade school, when Mom (not our Mom) would put those little blue ice packs in, and Snack Packs and Slim Jims (not our Snack Packs and Slim Jims) would stay as fresh as the day God made them (not our God).

But thermodynamic physicists have noted some inconsistencies in the use of these cooler bags around the office (not our office). Since the coolers are typically left on a counter or inside a cabinet while the cooler's owner is at home, the air inside the cooler bag is room temperature. When cold mayonnaise and meat is placed inside the bag, they absorb heat from the room temperature air.

The cooler bag is then placed inside a car, often a hot car, where it endures a grueling commute (Hey, what's with commutes?). Despite protection from the space-aged thermal insulation, the air absorbs still more heat.

By the time said worker gets to the office (not our office), the air inside the cooler bag is filled with warmish air, which is trapped inside by the space-aged thermal insulation. The air is significantly warmer than the air in the office fridge (not our office fridge).

As the cooly goodness of the fridge air attempts to cool the meat and mayonnaise, the space-aged insulation maintains a core temperature inside the cooler bag that is a few degrees cooler than the rest of the fridge. So, in addition to taking up ridiculous amounts of precious space in the office fridge (not our office fridge), it's making the mayonnaise rancid.

An old-timey lunch pail or stylish tin lunchbox would be much more effective.

Office efficiency experts (not our office efficiency experts) theorize that some employees use cooler bags to increase their rancid food intake, thus allowing them to utilize all their sick days before the end of the calendar year (Hey, what's with sick days?).

That's why here at the Big Yellow Nasty office (our office), we are required to bring lunches in an old-timey pail and place them in an old Coleman Cooler (our office fridge), which looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a while (Hey, what's with cleaning the office fridge? I mean, they're always threatening to throw everything away, but the fridge is always full! What gives, office?).

Postgame wrap from USC at ASU

And now the postgame report ... only five days late!

Here's my excuse:

I called Audioblogger three times during the game, but only the first one posted. For those of you who don't know, all this magnificent audio is done using my cell phone.

It's a damn shame, too. Those two posts that didn't take (for whatever reason) were two of the best yet. Here's a recap of what we're all missing:

End of first quarter update:

The crowd was electric as ASU was leading 7-0, and the Sun Devil defense was punishing the Trojans. In the first quarter, USC quarterback (and Heisman winner) Matt Leinart took a hard hit and stayed down.

Zebras called it a late hit, and we went nuts. Leinart, of course, only sat out one play. This resulted in ASU students loudly (and almost fairly) comparing him to a part of the female anatomy. And judging by USC's performance in the first half, we were totally in his head.

Leinart later whined about the hit and told the AP that the Sun Devil fans were "disrespectful and classless" to draw such anatomical comparisons. Whoa, there's a shocker. You can read the full story on azcentral.

The post ended right as USC picked off ASU quarterback Sam Keller, putting the Trojans in prime scoring position (insert Peter Griffin-esque giggle here). But the Devils held them to a field goal. The crowd was jumping and screaming like I've never seen before!

Halftime update

By halftime, the blazing sun was doing its best derail our energy. ASU was leading 21-3, and most of us in the student section had screamed to the point of cotton-mouthed dehydration.

It was no secret that a few of us had snuck into the lower bowl with counterfeit wristbands, but a lesser known fact is that some of our friends had legitimate ones.

Paul tried to take his bona fide wristband and get water for the rest of us, much like I imagine Jesus would have done. We were dying.

But before the half, they weren't re-admitting anyone to the lower bowl student section, wristband or no. This is probably because the whole section was overcrowded with people who snuck in (some using precise methods, as we did, others using stealth, others maybe using brute force). It exposed a fundamental flaw in the wristband policy: the crew at Sun Devil Stadium half-assed and then tries to overcompensate. In this case, it resulted in hundreds of students on the brink of heat stroke.

Paul finally got us water at the half, as I was making post number three.

Fans in other sections later confirmed that most of the stadium's concession stands sold out of bottled water during the game.

The post conveyed much thirst and desperation, with a hint of pride at what looked, at that point, like an eminently winnable game for ASU. And, if you don't already feel as though you're really missing out on this lost audio, it featured the first-ever commentary from my girlfriend, Sara.

Postgame wrap up (for real this time)

...

Highlight: hoisting Josh up for crowd pushups. I wanted to go up, but, to be fair, I weigh as much as nearly two Joshes.

Lowlight: Josh, who has a concealed carry permit for any sports rule that might possibly help the team he's rooting for, screaming, "The pylon is out of bounds!" After an airborne USC player scored on a run by striking the pylon with the ball.

We had a good laugh at that later, but it turns out he wasn't wrong.

According to NCAA rules, Rule 4: Ball in Play, Dead Ball, Out-of-Bounds, Section 2.b:

A player or an airborne player who touches a pylon is out of bounds.

Upon further inspection, however, it turns out Josh's on-field ruling was a little misguided. According to NCAA rules, Rule 8: Scoring, Section 2: Touchdown, Article III:

Runner A1, advancing in the field of play, becomes airborne at the
two-yard-line. His first contact with the ground is out of bounds three yards
beyond the goal line. The ball, in possession of the runner, passed over the
pylon. Ruling: Touchdown (Rule 4-2-4-e).

So next time, I'll have to remind Josh of 4-2-4-e.

Anyway, I could go on griping about this game forever. My friends, girlfriend and coworkers know I've been doing it all week. But, instead of pulling a Leinart and whining about USC's classless fans, I'll take the classy route and stick with my explanation of pylon rules.

And take some solace in the fact that at least my team's not called the Trojans (again, cue Mr. Griffin).

Stay tuned for nonexistent audio from the Who Cares Bowl.

Pregame audio from USC at ASU

Behold, a pregame audio that's almost coherent!

Hear the sweetly retarded hope in my voice? That's the result of a good tailgate.

We picked up three pounds of chorizo and two dozen 13-inch flour tortillas from the Mexican deli at La Canasta in downtown Phoenix, makers of the Valley's best tortillas. The result was some sublime breakfast burritos, cooked up on Cowboy Jack's camping stove.

We had a good turnout, too, our biggest tailgate of the year (although we hope to beat it the day after Thanksgiving).

Stay tuned for more posts (I did one at the end of the first quarter and at the half, both of which were some of my best yet, so hopefully they show up), and the postgame report.

This post also offers a preview of the fogily, walker- or wheelchair-bound geriatrics USC stunk up our town and jammed our sidewalks with. More on them in the postgame report.

A-A-R-P!