There's this guy I know at my barbershop who comes in about once every other hour with two of those 24-count CD/DVD carrying cases that you might have out in your car right now.

I don't know his name, but he's a pleasant enough fellow who apparently makes a living selling pirated copies of the latest albums and movies. I've always had this weird rationalization for doing business with this man.

Y'see, I never buy music from him. I'm one of the last people on earth who actually enjoy things like CD artwork, liner notes, etc. It's why I spent $12.99 on a CD at Best Buy last week, instead of downloading it for $9.99 off of iTunes.

First-run movies are another story, though.

Whereas I'll play a good CD over and over again, I'm usually content with seeing a good movie at the theaters once, then waiting for it to come out on DVD. I'm also a sucker for the "special features", deleted scenes, alternate endings and director/cast commentaries, so it's not like Hollywood isn't getting my money in the end, anyway.

I've got no problem with paying $7 (or 3 for $15) for the latest summer blockbuster. If it sucks, I save a wee bit of coin with the added convenience of watching it at home. If it kicks azz, I'll ultimately be doling out twice the theater ticket price for the DVD.

These things all even out.

Last Saturday night, with the boy and Mrs. Bootleg in their respective beds, I popped in my illicit copy of The Simpsons Movie. Except it was actually Ratatouille. I took out the DVD and the front of it clearly read "Simpson [sic] Movie" in black Sharpie.

Obviously a mistake at the factory (the computer in his kitchen).

So, instead of a Simpsons review, y'all get the next best thing.

Have you seen this commercial yet?



Earlier that same evening, I was tempted by what Burger King calls The Ultimate Double Whopper. Now, growing up, Burger King really didn't register with me. To my adolescent palate, Mickey D's (sorry, but Black people have to call it that) was where it began and ended.

Then, about 10 years ago, BK had a tie-in with Mr. Potato Head (who, himself, was enjoying a rise in popularity from 1995's Toy Story movie) and re-invented their French Fries. Always a slave (sorry, Mathan) for effective fast food marketing, I took the greasy bait…and loved the taste!

Now, BK is a semi-regular fast food option for the family. And, The Ultimate Double Whopper is sure to keep my arteries clogged into autumn.

Quite simply, it's the best fast food burger out there, kids. The damn thing weighs about the same as a newborn baby and features two quarter-pound patties, two huge slices of that processed yellow cheese-food, six strips of bacon and all the usual Whopper condiments. BK is notorious for their sandwiches that disintegrate into a cholesterol glob before you finish, but this one held its form and texture from first bite to last.

Be a man, order it with everything and take 60 days off your life with every bite.