The Pepsi Conspiracy Thursday, May 24 2012 

Pepsi is pretty much the best soda in the history of ever.

In case you forgot what it looks like.

Now, you may be thinking one of four things:

  1. “Yes, Pepsi is amazing and delicious.”
  3. “Pssh, they both taste the same…”
  4. “Can we get to the conspiracy already?”

But no one cares about you and your thoughts. The real problem here is that, back in the day, it was really easy to get some Pepsi in my belly. Go to the store, buy a bottle, and enjoy.

But no more.

In the past two years, I’ve noticed that the Pepsi bottles have gotten increasingly impossible to open after closing them. And no, it’s not because I’m a weakling, because even my dad has trouble. So there.

And my dad looks like this.

You may not know this, but Pepsi does in fact have a hotline that you can call and use to bitch at them for whatever reason. I decided to take advantage of this fact earlier this month and see what they had to say about my problem.


I called the number and then immediately hung up, my phone-conversation-anxiety taking over. After a quick pep talk, (“Come on bitch, if you don’t make this call, you’re gonna have jack shit to write about in your blog post this week.”); I dialed again and waited until an operator answered.

“Hi, I’m [name redacted]. How can I help you today?” [Name redacted]’s voice held the tone of someone who wanted to go home right the fuck now, but still had a few more hours to go in their workday.

“Hi, [name redacted],” I said cheerily, trying to lighten things up. “I’ve been having some trouble lately.” I paused, allowing [name redacted] some time to go, “Oh, really?” or something else that would encourage me to continue. She said nothing.

“I’ve been drinking Pepsi for more than a decade now, but recently I noticed the bottles are getting harder to open. I don’t suppose if you know if the caps or the neck of the bottle have been redesigned lately?”

“Um…” [Name redacted] was stumped. “Actually, we don’t make the bottles ourselves. We buy them from a bottle distributor; they’re the ones who handle the bottles.”

“Oh,” I went. “That makes a lot of sense,” I continued, because it did.

“Well, why don’t you give me the bar code number of the bottles and I can report them for you?” [Name redacted] suggested.

“Yeah, okay,” I said sheepishly. I read the number to her and she asked for my address so she could send me some coupons.

So at least the call wasn’t a complete waste.

I hung up with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was happy to have some coupons, but on the other hand, I hadn’t gotten any answers.

I turned to the internet next, which is probably where I should’ve gone in the first place, because it took me literally four minutes to find the culprit of my bottle woes.

Here it is folks… Are you ready?

Pepsi apparently changed the necks and caps of their bottles in an effort to conserve plastic, which has made them harder to open. Which I guess is better than those new Poland Spring bottles that, while easier to open than the new Pepsi bottles, have a tendency to spill water everywhere as you try to open said bottle. (Or is that just me?)

This is how I open bottles, by the way.

Anyway. The world now has it’s answers. Are you¬†satisfied? Because I’m not. After all… My soda is still hard as fuck to open.

a little story. Wednesday, Nov 10 2010 

While sitting in the office of my guidance counselor, and hooking up my admission forms, I got stuck on a question.

The following conversation ensued:

Me: … What should I put for ‘special talents’?


Me: Like, what are my special talents?

Mme Andrea: I don’t know! You tell me.

-long uncomfortable silence-

Me: I don’t know.

Mme Andrea: What do you do in your spare time? What are you good at?

Me: … I can write. That’s about it.

Mme Andrea: Okay, what do you write about?

Me: Cr- crazy stuff, -nervous laugh-

(It is important to note that at this point, I could think of no story other than ‘issues’).

Mme Andrea: Like..?

Me: Like… Incest…

-short pause-

Me: And– and rape…

Mme Andrea: Alright let’s not emphasize that.


True Talk Friday, Sep 3 2010 

A convo through texts.


Stuff you should know: Anna Paquin and Stephen Moyer are actors on the show True Blood.

The title of this blog post suddenly makes sense.

They play the characters Sookie and Bill, (respectively), who are an item.


Me: Guess what happened this weekend?

Dad: What

Me: Anna Paquin and Stephen Moyer got married!

Dad: Who’s that

Me: Bill from True Blood!

Dad: No wonder they be humping like crazy on that show

Me: Lmao. Yeah, they met on the show

Dad: Sounds pervy

Me: Nah man, they official now

Dad: And yet she was texting me all weekend… Someone is a ho -_-

Me: lol! I WISH you would marry Anna Paquin

Dad: Sounds like we are 1 murder away from the perfect family

Me: Who would play Bill, then? You? After he turned Hispanic and gained 100 pounds?

Dad: Really Chey? 100 pounds? You take everything too far

Me: xD I’m just saying, Bill’s pretty lean…

Dad: And I’m pretty fat? You’re such a bastard


Everyday with this :)

My Father: Texter Supreme Tuesday, Jun 29 2010 

My dad is the best texter in the universe. It’s an undisputed fact. What? You need proof? Alright, alright…

Some of my father’s choice texts to me:

“How are things as the Mayor of Dilltopia?”

I fired back: “You should know; since you’re the President of Dill-Country.”

And then he was all like, “You’re the god we pray to in the Dilliverse. Supreme creator of all things dill.”


“I screamed DILL and no one answered and I knew you weren’t there and it made me sad.”

Another: “I’m making my own movie called “Chey’s Dad, 1 cup,” We are going to be famous.”¬† — That’s after I told him about ‘2 girls, 1 cup.’

To notify me that my glasses were ready from the doctor: “Your quadfocals came in.”

Me: Yay!

Dad: That’s right, cheer for me for I am the greatest father this universe has ever seen and you should feel blessed that a mere dill like you were born into my mighty realm.

Me: Right… Anyway I’m glad my glasses are here. Did I tell you how much trouble I was having playing Silent Hill?

Dad: Yes, I chuckled to myself and whispered, ‘Dills have such hard lives’.

SMH. Fathers.