Shameless Consumer Wants The Juicero: A $399 Packet Squeezer

Shameless Consumer Industries doesn’t generally use its leverage of the only food network to be explicitly endorsed by President Obama (in coded language during the announcement of Osama Bin Laden’s assassination) to get stuff, but ol’ Sha’Meless was reclining back, digesting the remnants of last Sunday’s Easter candy when he happened upon an article describing the Juicero, a product that somehow escaped my gaze despite raising $120 million in capital funds.

The concept of the Juicero is pretty simple, it’s a $500 device that squeezes packets of juice into a cup, upon which you drink the contents of said cup. Brilliant! I’ll take five, put it on my credit card and then throw the credit card away because there’s no way I’m paying that bill off and frankly it’s the bank’s fault for ignoring my credit score when I applied for said card.

Juicero uses fresh fruits and vegetables and the machine itself can apparently press with the kind of force that could lift two Teslas. I can empathize, as I’ve often found myself tired out after squeezing the Velveeta cheese packet with the force of two small kittens butting heads.

How can you not like this concept? It’s like a Keurig but cold, a Soda Stream for healthy drinks, a safer version of the contraption I built to siphon gravy out of chicken wing leftovers. Naturally I dug out the Shameless Consumer Corporate Credit Card and went straight to Juicero’s website to buy me a big stinkin’ Juicero and a bunch of those juice packets.

They wouldn’t sell me one.

It wasn’t because the credit card was stolen, which it technically wasn’t because I’m still an employee. Juicero does not currently deliver to Shameless Consumer Industries (I’ll let you know when I figure out where that is) and flat out refuse to provide us with a machine.

Juicero does not currently ship to the Shameless Consumer’s state, or any of the neighboring states, or really any of the states that neighbor the neighboring states. Despite this, they have the audacity to advertise a limited time drink called Granate Glow, which they describe as:

There are no words in the English language that sufficiently describe how good Granate Glow is (trust us: we’ve tried). Don’t settle for the soulless stuff on a grocery store shelf—our Granate Glow is fresh, raw, and mindblowingly invigorating. Consider yourself warned: you’ll never go back to bottled juice again.

Sure, Juicero, challenge the world’s greatest food wordsmith to describe a product that he can’t have.

So I’d like to meet in the middle. I accept your challenge, Juicero, as well as the Juicero system and the Granate Glow packet. Send me this device and I shall concoct a wordsmithing that will have you soiling your pants like you drank too much juice.

Have your people call my people, you know where to reach me. What are you, chicken gravy?