And Now a Word from Our Sponsor

Ol’ Mulchmouth John Cafferty belched it best: “Things are tough all over.” (And he should know!) Even us high-profile bloggers are feeling the crunch financially. For serious, I’m down to my last $2,500, with at least another $2,100 ululating in the IOU ether, but accounts-payable departments aren’t exactly notorious for the ferocity of their check distribution. So the Wrazz was forced to take on a sponsor. My first choice,, declined my repeated pitches, primarily because I couldn’t get Peter Coyote to read them out loud. However, I’m happy to report that no less a blackhearted monolith than Studgedumpling Enterprises has agreed to finance me through the end of this fiscal year — in exchange, of course, for certain promotional considerations.

Ordinarily, I find the snake-oil shuck ‘n’ jive an abhorrent practice. But these are different times, ladies and gentlemen, and I assure you that as a man of honor, I could not in good conscience endorse a product I don’t myself use. As a liberal and heterosexual of explosive boudoir prowess, I have scruples.

That’s why I’m absolutely chuffed to tell you about an exciting new breakthrough in olfactory technology: the Kevin Jonas Nostril Balm. Yes, friends, you too can feel like a post-pubescent pan-flash by simply applying but a pintip of this marvelous elixir ’round the rims of your schnoz holes. Relax — you don’t even have to know how to play guitar! (Kevin sure doesn’t, whacking at strings like a toddler petting a nervous Siamese.)

It comes in six tantalizing aromas: Virgin Blueberry, Milquetoast Mango, Grapes of Puberty, Whitebread Raspberry, Platinum Lemon, and Hackeneyed Execution Apple Cider Crunch. Coming mid-August, in a limited-edition Walgreens special: Logorrhea Butterscotch, with optional nacho powder and a promise ring that plays “Keep It Real” until its wearer finally kills somebody.

Kevin Jonas Nostril Balm. Why Should Teenybop Smell Like Shit?


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