Snap, Crackle, Pop
While trying to figure out how to work the DVD player at the cabin, Adam and I were subjected to several minutes of some television show about hip-hop artists and the perpetually upset women in their lives. I was trying very hard not to watch it, especially after the first young man ended an argument with his crying girlfriend by shrugging, putting on a piece of bling, and leaving. The next scene showed another young man trying to convince his girlfriend to move in with him, and she was having none of it, in spite of his solid argument—made in a paddleboat—that it would help him figure out if he wanted to make a more serious commitment to their relationship. Just at that moment, text appeared at the bottom of the screen to identify the actor/rapper/Casanova.
"His name is Fizz!"
Adam replied, "Well, he does have carbonated hair."
Which is now obviously my favorite way to describe anything. (And it was entirely accurate.)