Before you can become a music super star, you need to have a cool name, and then you need to learn how to play a musical instrument. Or not. But you definitely need the cool name.
This week, the Intergalactic Business Report goes behind the scenes of the music industry and reveals the hidden meaning behind the names of some of the most popular acts of the past thirty years.
Ever wonder why Tony Tony Tony was named Tony Tony Tony? No? Do you even know who Tony Tony Tony is? We tell you anyway.
Imagine Dragons. Imagine not sucking. We couldn’t do that, so we imagined dragons.
Foreigner: We wanted a name that said: weird smelling, culturally backwards, and unintelligible. How’d we do?
Tony Tony Tony: Tony is mentally challenged. We asked him what we should name our group.
Maroon five: Almost named ourselves “Jazzberry Jam” but then chose the next color in the Crayola box.
Hootie and the Blowfish: Wanted a name that sounded like both a children’s show where the star is arrested for child molestation and an urban dictionary sex act. How’d we do?
Phish: Fish, but way worse smelling. Like how everyone at a Phish concert smells.
Florence and the machine: Named after a young adult novel where a teenage girl falls in love with a dreamy robot.
Rental cars. You get them when you’re tired of your own car or maybe just don’t want hookers to leave their scent on your upholstery. But which hooker smell preventing company should you choose? This week, the Intergalactic Business Report goes behind the major brands to tell you what they’re really saying…
Hertz: It hertz to smell so much vomit in our cars.
National: What the Nazis would name their rental car company if they decided to do that instead of trying to take over the world and kill people.
Alamo: Remember the Alamo? You know. Where a bunch of people went there thinking it was a good idea and then found out they were trapped? That’s us.
Avis: For those who want number two, in their back seat.
Sixt: Dis is dah sixt time someone asked us why we have dis stupid name.
Budget: Founded in 1958 by Morris Mirkin. A merkin is a pubic hair toupee. Look it up.
Thrifty: Hey Macklemore can we rent a car from Thrifty? What? What? What? Nope. End of song.
Enterprise: Trying hard to make you think we’re actually an escort service. We send you broke twenty-somethings who are just doing this to pay back student loans and you ask them to have sex with you, right?
Dollar: No I won’t suck your dick, I mean rent your car, for a dollar, Phil!
Athletic shoes have come a long way since Richie Cunningham took bucket shot free throws and wore whatever he wore. Today, multiple shoe companies compete for your attention and dollars as they beg you to be loyal to their brand.
As a special reader benefit, the Intergalactic Business Report gives you the power to make the right choice as it takes you behind the rubber, leather, and synthetic materials and tells you what the biggest shoe brands are really saying.
Nike: For the serious athlete who wants his shoes assembled by a 12-year-old kid with an AK-47 pointed at his head in an Asian sweatshop.
Adidas: What Hitler would wear if he played sports.
Puma: The shoes people in orgies wear, when they decide to wear shoes.
Reebok: We’re named after an Apartheid animal. Let’s go exercise or something.
New Balance: What you wear if you’re a dad and given up on looking cool, even a little bit.
Saucony: Kind of sounds like, “Suck on these.” That’s on purpose.
Brooks: If our shoes were all white, they’d look like those things old nurses and waitresses wear.
Asics: We’re (b) asic (s).
Under Armour: We make tight shirts to wear underneath your real shirt. Now we own a factory in China that makes shoes too. Wanna wear them?
Coffee. It’s what you drink because a long time ago a friend told you it would help you wake up in the morning even though it tastes like really bad, burnt, dark chocolate. Now you drink it every day and say stuff like, “Don’t talk to me till I’ve had my first cup of coffee,” and “I need my coffee!” That’s your life now. And your friend was a dick.
Anyway, the Intergalactic Business Report breaks down the hidden messages behind some of the world’s major coffee brands. Read this before you say something stupid like, “My blood type is coffee” and the three dorks in your office who laugh at cat memes lose their shit.
Lavazza. “Hey, I’m Tony Lavazza. Drink my friggin’ coffee,” was our first brand identity concept. Then we decided to go classy Italian.
Starbucks. Seattle used to be cool. In 1995. This is what’s left.
Dunkin’. So cheap we didn’t even add a “g” to the end of our name.
Peet’s. We were going for a name that sounded like a kid’s t.v. show star who is jailed for child molestation. How’d we do?
Caribou. Named after an animal that takes massive dumps in the woods. Get it?
Gevalia. Means, “Man who has sex with caribous” in Italian.
Folger’s. Good to the last drop. Like butt sweat. If you’re into that.
McCafe. Getting coffee at McDonald’s is the first sign you’ve given up on your Mclife.
You’re hungry. Or you need gas. Or you just want to pay seventeen dollars for really crappy beer and beef jerky. Convenience stores offer us quick and easy products that we always regret paying for and consuming. But you know you’re going to be back as soon as you crave a mystery sausage that’s been spinning on a spit in a fake heated glass box and you also need to take a dump in a toilet that doesn’t flush.
As your body attempts to figure out what you just ate and you realize you just spent thirty-seven dollars for a pack of cigarettes, you start to wonder why the store that just ripped you off has such a crazy-sounding name.
The Intergalactic Business Report goes behind the slurpy machines to give you the true meaning behind each of these brand leaders.
7 eleven. The estimated height of the guy who shits in our bathrooms based on the size of the turd still floating in the toilet.
Circle K. We wanted to go with “Circle Jerk” but circle jerkers were offended because they’re much more sanitary.
Bigfoot. We named it Bigfoot because seeing something in our store that won’t give you food poisoning is exactly the same likelihood as seeing a Sasquatch.
Kum and go. Celebrating our history as a masturbation stop for wayward truckers and just regular dudes who whack off at convenience stores.
Minuteman. Named after soldiers who could shoot and reload in one minute. Just like the guys who use our bathrooms.
Sheetz. What you get from eating anything from our store.
Apples. The fruit you eat after it falls off trees and some guy picks it up with his hands and puts it in a basket for you to eat after about a thousand other guys touch it too on the way to the grocery store.
You’ve probably asked yourself more times than there are guys touching your apples, “What do all their names mean?” The Intergalactic Business Report gives you the real meaning behind those heavily touched fruits that go in your mouth after countless people have palmed, fingered, and rubbed them all over themselves.
Honey Crisp. Honey isn’t crisp. It’s gooey. But we didn’t want to call the apple, “Gooey apple.” Oh, and it doesn’t taste like honey anyway. We just kind of threw that in because we also didn’t want to just name them, “Crisp apples,” because that sounded kind of dumb.
Jonathan. “Hi, my name is Jonathan. I’m an asshole. I invented an apple. Guess what I called it?”
Red Delicious. If you have to tell people something’s “delicious,” is it? Really?
Jonagold. “Hi, my name is Jonathan. I’m an asshole. I mixed my apple with a Golden
Delicious apple. Guess what I called it?”
Gala. What you’d eat if you went to a fancy ball where they only served apples, and also where you’d say, “This ball sucks.”
Granny Smith. Want to eat an apple that reminds of you of what an old woman would taste like? Here you go.
Golden Delicious. See Red Delicious, above.
Braeburn. Named after what you get if you have sex on a Berber rug.
Snack food. The stuff we eat that has no nutritional value but we eat anyway because we don’t care. This week, the Intergalactic Business Report gets chippy with the industry that gives us bite-sized fake-cheese flavored everything and tells you what their brands are really saying.
Doritos. Means, “little men that crawl out of my butt and hand me chips” in Spanish.
Cheetos. The official snack of people who try to touch you on public transportation.
Sun chips. We wanted a name that sounded like we support Apartheid.
Lays. What you don’t get if you eat our chips every day.
Pringles. A man with a nasty mustache is our symbol. Eat up.
Bugles. Cones aren’t bugles. We know that. But we’ll keep calling them bugles.
Chex mix. The snack equivalent of having some of your best friends and also all the people you fucking hate over for dinner.
Ruffles. Named after a clown who’s doing time for not wearing pants at kids’ parties.
Fritos. Spanish for, “sexually transmitted disease,” as in “Oh my god. I think I’ve got the Fritos.”
Funyuns. We were going to call them “onion vaginas” but that turned out to be a bar in Amsterdam.
Cereal. It’s that stuff we eat that we wouldn’t eat if we hadn’t eaten it first when we were kids because if we hadn’t someone would give us a bowl now and we’d say, “I’m not eating that shit.” Anyway, we give you the truth behind the biggest cereal brands in the world.
Honey Nut Cheerios. Having bee hallucinations is normal, right?
Captain Crunch. Used to be a “Colonel” till he was demoted for cat molestation.
Trix. Originally, the rabbit was a hooker and trix weren’t for kids. Then we changed it to how it is now.
Froot Loops. We’re dumb-friendly. Toucan Sam doesn’t rhyme. And we spelled “fruit” wrong. Bonus: Are you stoopid? Eat up.
Fruity Pebbles. Created so homophobic 8th grade boys had a punchline to the burn, “So what do YOU eat for breakfast?”
Honey Grahams. We wanted to sound like a gay British prostitution chain. How’d we do?
Count Chocula. We were going for vaguely racist and we think we got there.
Shredded Wheat. “Flabby” wheat didn’t test well, so…
King Vitamin. The “king’s” dentures are floating around in this bowl.
Lucky Charms. Originally, the leprechaun was an Indian chief who used peyote to escape interlopers on his vision quest. But test audiences didn’t understand: “I’ll make a spirit bridge and fade into oblivion with my out of sight peace beads.” Also, peace beads didn’t sound appetizing.
We used to think that in the future we’d be controlled by robots or alien overlords. Instead, mobile phone companies control our every move and are responsible for our sadness, joy, and entertainment when we’re taking a dump.
Today, the Intergalactic Business Report breaks through their mind control to reveal what their brands are really saying.
Boost. Where you at? In a bad neighborhood, we’re assuming.
Cricket. Our name is what you hear when you ask who uses Cricket.
ATT. Using us is like only getting a tt, when you want two.
T-Mobile. The “un-carrier” means we used to care but we’re not about that now.
Sprint. Just as bad as everyone else. That’s what we’re going with.
Verizon. We went with a name that sounds like a brand of sunglasses you buy at a pharmacy.
Metro- PC. Old people need phones too. Or do they?
They look and sometimes actually taste like shit, but they’re always sitting there in the check out lane at grocery stores. You wonder who actually buys them, till you break down and start stuffing one and then another and another in your mouth and feel a fleeting since of dark, perverse release before the cops arrive and awkwardly cuff you in a poor attempt to avoid getting your chocolate and saliva all over them. We’re talking about candy bars, and today the Intergalactic Business Report gives you the real story about what they’re really saying.
Hershey’s. Proud to be the only candy brand synonymous with anal sex.
Clark. Why didn’t we just name it a “Dick Bar”?
Baby Ruth. Want to eat something best known for looking like a floating turd in Caddyshack?
Twix. We were going to name ourselves “twat” but that didn’t sound sexually deviant enough.
Kit Kat. We support subliminal animal abuse. Break me off a piece of that kitty cat? What?
Mentos. Try watching our commercials and not think they’re about random sex with strangers.
Zagnut. Still dying to figure out how to jump on the “deez nutz” bandwagon.