My Whopper was delicious, as you'd expect it to be. The grill marks were ever-present. The onions were crispy. The mayonnaise doused the bun. Pure deliciousness. And then there was my Sean John cup.
I swear to you.
The rap mogul apparently has gone into the fast food cup design field. Why not? He's already capitalized on a war with the dead Tupac Shakur (someone tip a 40 for him), a clothing line that is easily reproduced and sold on the black market, over-hyped restaurant, horrible reality television shows and I'm sure his own energy drink line.
Sean Jean is taking over our world. Fo sho.
What's next? The Jay-Z gas pump? The Snoop Dog recyclable grocery bag? The KRS-One encyclopedia line? (That's old school, kids.) The Soulja Boy action figure? (I spelled Soulja right. I looked it up.)
I had to look at my cup for a long time to truly believe what I was seeing. The dollars and cents world of advertising , cross-branding and tying entertainment, if that is what you want to call Sean Jean, aka Diddy, aka Puffy, aka Puff Daddy, aka Sean Combs, has now truly been taken over in the pleasurable experience of consuming 39 grams of fat.
How depressing is that? I can't even clog my arteries without being fed, literally and figuratively, the propaganda of today's advertising age.
I won't buy a Sean Jean shirt, a Puff Daddy tape (that's old school, kids), eat at Justin's (a restaurant owned by Combs) or watch one of his many bad television shows on MTV, you know that channel that claims to be a "music" television station.
In fact, the Sean Jean cup may lead me in another direction. I might pass on eating the 39 grams of fat for another heart weakening wasteland.
Maybe they'll have a Dave Matthews napkin line. That would be sweet.