* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where we make a clear distinction between ice cream worth dying for and ice cream worth killing for. So does our good friend Luke Strickler.

Buy Black Mamba Delights From Magnum Ice Cream

By: Luke Strickler

Think you’ve experienced the decadent, rich taste of chocolate before? Think again, shitheads, because you haven’t let the new Black Mamba Delights from Magnum Ice Cream fuck a bucket of wonderful into your face yet. You didn’t seriously think we were going to stop with our signature “Iron Panther Fudge Supreme,” did you, dickhead? No, if we wanted to softball you, we would’ve started practicing our shortstop game a long-ass time ago. That was all just the dark, creamy ramp leading up to the high-octane Evel Knievel stunt of flavor in your tongue box that is the Black Mamba Delight. This is chocolate, bitches, and here you either go big or go to hell, and right now we’re as cold as your ex’s heart in a liquid nitrogen-filled fridge floating through the goddamn Boomerang Nebula.

Made from ingredients so fucking good Snapple had to change its slogan to “Made from some pretty good stuff on Earth, but nothing like the dick-chilling orgasm on a stick that is the Black Mamba Delight.” First, we start with coca leaves so rich Warren Buffet would bend over to spit shine their shoes if they even had feet, and not the thick mahogany stick needed to hold up the Mona Lisa of desserts, guaranteed to make any mouth shit its pants. The rest is a mystery so great that when the Hardy Boys saw it they got Crohn’s disease. What we do is we take the ingredients to the top of Mount Kangchenjunga and leave them there with a newborn baby for six days. When we return, a fresh batch of Black Mamba Delights is being held by a stark naked George Clooney. Sure, the new George Clooneys have to kill the others Highlander-style, but it’s worth it for chocolaty treats so mouthwatering that you patsies will die of dehydration just staring at it.

The only reason we’re telling you all this is because Black Mamba Delights are so mind-shatteringly delicious they give you Jim Carrey’s 24-hour truth curse from Liar Liar with every bite. Don’t believe us? Go fuck yourself, but do it with a Black Mamba Delight so that every time you sit down it’ll feel like a cloud giving you a rimmer. Still not convinced that this delicious auburn treat could change your life? Come down to 847 Cross Street, Santa Clara, CA, and I will fight you myself, asshole. Bring whatever weapon you want — I’ll use only a Black Mamba Delight so that when I watch the life leave your blasphemous little eyes, I’ll know that the last thing you’ll have tasted was the motherfucking Stone Cold Steve Austin of zest giving your taste buds an atomic wedgie so hard they spit Hanes boxer briefs. Just try me.

What, now you think you can handle the Black Mamba Delight? You think you’re able to take the most viscerally pleasurable dessert since Nikki Sixx filled a birthday cake with heroin? Save it for your diary, chocolate Icarus, because the Black Mamba Delight isn’t for the weak of heart, the young, the old, or anyone under 6’2″. This icy idol of widow-making chocolate caramel is so medically questionable, the only question on the MCAT’s this year is a box of these creamy killers and a question mark. If you think you’re getting out of this post-dinner tongue enlightening easy, you must have already eaten a box of Black Mamba Delights, because you’ve lost your goddamn mind.

So go on, buy a box. See if you’ve got what it takes to tame the Mao Zedong of the freezer section. See if your mouth can withstand this chilled typhoon of cocoa without looking like a Hershey bar Chernobyl. Buy Black Mamba Delights in stores today, or live in the desolate shadow of your own cowardice until the day the Black Mamba Delight finally drives you to your fucking grave.



* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where we are always interested in whether you enjoyed your dining experience. Er, make that your diner experience.

Dan’s Diner Survey

By: Luke Strickler

When was the last time you dined with us?

Today: 7pm – closing

Who was your waiter/waitress?

See, that’s why I’m here. I think her name is Ashley, but her nametag was covered by a piece of flair that said “Burgers 4 Life.” Anyway, do you think you could give her my number?

How many people were in your party?

Just one. I’ve been coming here for a while, trying to work up the courage to talk to…Anna? Maybe it’s Amy. I just call her Angel Face.

How was the quality of your meal?

See, that’s another thing. I didn’t really order any food. I was just trying to sit in Angel Face’s area and work on my opening line. Tell me if this is good: “Are you on this menu? Because I love you.”

What was your total for the night?

$50. I wasn’t aware that your unlimited refill policy doesn’t apply if “you just keep ordering cokes and staring at the staff.” You should really put that on the menu somewhere, along with the “No taking pictures” rule.

How much did you tip your waiter/waitress?

$75 and a poem I wrote about her: “Roses are red/ Violets are blue/ You are a waitress/ Please love me back.”

Would you recommend our restaurant to your friends and family?

I’d bring them in to meet Angel Face. I’d want her to feel like a welcome part of the family and I’m sure my mom and her have a lot in common, seeing as they both bring me my dinner.

How was the quality of service you received?

Like…good, but not “she’s definitely into me” type of good. I mean, I’ve been coming here during her shift for weeks, so she’s must know who I am. I just can’t tell if she’s into me, or if she’s just good at her job. If you could, just casually bring me up one day, just to see what happens. Maybe tell her she’s fired, ask, and then rehire her, just to test the waters.

Was the restaurant well maintained?

The outside is a beautiful work of art, crafted by God himself, while I’m sure the inside is a soft, caring place that needs me just as much as I need them.

Please provide any additional comments to help us improve your dining experience.

Just help me out here, man. I’ve been pumping money into this place nonstop for three weeks now, you can do me this solid and we’ll call it even. This is fate. I came in looking for beef and found love. I don’t know if you guys are set on your slogan, but you can use that one if you want. See, now you definitely owe me one. You can pay me back by giving Angel Face this survey. I’ve attached my phone number, home address, and a spare key to the back. Please give everything to Angel Face, and tell her “There’s no waiting on love.”

Oh, and the chicken sandwich could be crispier.