I don’t possess the proficiency required in autism to be someone in their twenties who really, really, likes Lego. Sadly, I merely “enjoy” Lego in the sense that if I’m placed somewhere with nothing to do except dick around with plastic blocks I’ll probably do just that. One trait I do possess, however, is that I can’t seem to pass up on a stupid gimmick if it will give me something to write about and the subject of today’s article is just that: candy Lego.
Okay, so it’s not actual Lego-branded candy. This is one of the many Lego imitators out there like Mega Bloks and Best-Lock except the gimmick here isn’t Halo figurines or whatever; it’s that you can actually eat the blocks. I’m not a child psychologist but I’m about 90% sure associating candy with a non-candy item that kids routinely choke on is probably not the best course of action? I mean, the people who made Fun Dip didn’t make their components look like a fork and a plug socket for a reason. The marketing geniuses who thought Candy Blox was a good idea are also probably the same people who’d slap Spongebob Squarepants on a candy dispenser that looked like an idle stove top or make hard candies that look exactly like Tide detergent capsules. The point I’m trying to get at here is that at some point in our lives all of us have casually put a Lego in our mouths while building a spaceship or whatever and this isn’t exactly a behavior that should be encouraged.
Anyways, here’s what the damned things look like:
According to the carton Candy Blox come in four different flavors: Cherry, Lime, Blueberry, and… Banana. I’m not going to lie, all things considered that is a respectable collection of flavors. All too often confectioneries will skimp out on the yellow candies and make it a shitty imitation lemon flavor so kudos to Concord Confections for going against the grain and providing an assortment of flavors that I look forward to accidentally sucking into my trachea.
The real selling point with these candies is that they are more or less some weird hybrid of “toy” and “candy” in that you’re supposed to play with them and then eat them afterward. This pairing of nouns generally doesn’t work and somewhere there’s a landfill full of motorized toy airplanes whose cockpits were once filled with M&M’s and gumballs to prove my point. Alarmingly, the Candy Blox carton is touted as a “Starter Kit” and the box features a handful of inappropriate “serving suggestions” which further muddies the notion of whether or not I’m really supposed to eat these fucking things. (No word yet if they make “Advanced Kits” that come with enough parts to build a car or a construction site or whatever.)
You might be wondering how well these blocks fit together and the answer to that ranges from “surprisingly well” to “about as good as you’d have expected them to had I not just mentioned they sometimes aren’t total wastes of time”. Sadly, however, unlike other fake building blocks these ones aren’t “compatible with leading brands”:
Regardless, I pushed forward and built some of the suggestions on the carton. Here’s what the end results looked like.
This is a “Wiener Dog” according to the carton. I think that title is a bit generous because this could be anything. This only looks like a dog because I was primed to believe that by the box. If you showed this to me out of context the first thing I’d ask you is why you were showing me a motorcycle built out of second rate candy. “Built” in this sense is very loose, literally, as in “loosely assembled” because none of these pieces really want to play nicely with each other, especially the smaller ones. At any given time the dog’s tail and/or legs and either/also ears would shift and fall off and keeping it assembled for the purposes of taking a picture was beyond frustrating. I’m glad I got that out of my system now because wait until you see what the “Moose” looks like.
Yep, his fucking head wouldn’t stay on and his ass is falling apart. Good job, Concord.
Let me tell you something, buddy. If you didn’t believe in miracles before seeing this picture you damn well better believe in them now because the fundamental laws of physics forbid you from stacking anything atop a 2×1 Candy Blox, yet here I am with a grand total of five blocks sitting atop not one but two tiny candies. Of course, I’m essentially just blowing smoke up your ass because there was a green 2×2 block camera right that kept falling off and wouldn’t stay on for the same reason as the Moose’s head so I just said “fuck it” after fixing it and knocking the yellow part off more times than I could be bothered to keep track of. You can keep score on your own, though, by keeping an eye on the amount of Candy Blox dust that accumulates on my desk from these stupid models falling apart all the time.
Moving toward some semblance of a model that won’t disappear the second you look away from it here’s what the carton calls a “Robot”. Eagle-eyed readers might notice the robot shown on the package in the first picture of the article is green and blue, not green and red. There’s a very good and very valid reason for that: they didn’t give me enough blue blocks to do anything with. Furthermore, the only blue pieces they did give me with the exception of the big one shown earlier in the article were the tiny 2×1 pieces that don’t stay together. If they did, this would be a model of a robot holding up his hand, not saluting an invisible flag.
So here’s where I figured out the secret cheat code to Candy Blox is building something with only a little bit of definition that doesn’t depend on a bunch of tiny pieces to give it flair because let’s face it, that shit isn’t going to stay together long enough for you to maneuver your mouth down around it street vacuum style. I am told this is a “Tree” and I will believe that because it looks like one of the crappy Christmas trees that gets farted out of a Lego advent calendar every holiday season. Not even this thing was safe from the sheer ineptitude of the Candy Blox “artists” however because this model was the biggest culprit of what is possibly the most annoying thing about these stupid candies: the fact that the “suggested” models were drawn so ambiguously bad you had to literally guess at the pieces being used.
Since all of the candies are two studs wide this comes down to guessing whether or not the blocks shown are two to four studs long. If you think that you can be a smart ass and compare the models on the box and deduce it that way you’re fucking wrong because on the “instructions” for this tree the 3×2 block is drawn so poorly that it looks two different ways. I built that tree by guessing that because the top piece was clearly 2×1 the rest would have to be odd numbered as well. I shouldn’t have to bust out some goddamned math theory when I’m mindlessly rolling candies around in my filthy hands that I have to eat later for the sake of Internet comedy. By this point I don’t even know who my audience is anymore. As of that shitty Candy Blox flower I’ve alienated everyone so I guess no one is going to care that I got all of my terrible Candy Blox models together for an ensemble.
I wasn’t sure if I should have led this article with the quality of the blocks or the taste test of the flavors. These two-stage reviews are really hard. One thing I would like to point out is that these candies are kind of messy in that my fingertips developed a filmy texture in the course of putting this article together. Again, I’m not sure what to make of this product. If Concord Confections wanted to go with candies made of compressed powder they could’ve just done that and skipped the bizarre Lego thing completely; if I’m supposed to play with these things then I’d expect them not to get all over the place and require me to wash my hands and wipe down my desk afterward. No, I don’t know why I dumped the things out directly onto my desk either.
Getting back in line with the scope of this review I mentioned at the beginning of the article that Candy Blox came in four flavors: cherry, blueberry, lime, and banana. Here’s how much I enjoyed them explained in an elaborate and roundabout manner.
Cherry: Cough syrup and SweetTarts. Off to a great start.
Blueberry: This is going to be the highest point of this article. I’ll admit while writing this article I mentally had “blueberry” and “blue raspberry” mixed up so I was anticipating some unnaturally tart garbage hocked up from the 1990’s blue candy craze. Thankfully I was pleasantly surprised instead. I would buy a bag of just blue Candy Blox (or candy that tastes like them because Legos hurt my mouth); consequently if you’ve been paying attention this is the flavor I received the least amount of in the carton I bought. I guess flavors that don’t taste like dollar store hard candy cost more to produce. Who would have figured?
Lime: Something is wrong with this flavor. I can’t put my finger on it but it tastes awful; it’s not lime, it’s something vaguely citric, but it tastes off. I left the preceding sentences here as a placeholder so I could get a second opinion from a work colleague and they described it better than I could, but grounded in my original hypothesis: “it tastes like an old vitamin C tablet”. Fuck this.
Banana: There is really only one kind of artificial banana flavor out there and that’s largely due in part to the organic compound isoamyl acetate. It occurs naturally in bananas and it’s commonly synthesized in labs for the purposes of cheap candy such as this. Every banana flavored candy uses this; it’s not on the Candy Blox box but the banana blocks taste exactly like banana Runts which taste exactly like Jell-o banana pudding. It’s all the same shit. It’s not bad, but it’s not the greatest thing on the planet either. Also, bees use this compound to tell other bees to sting you; do not eat Candy Blox near bees.
Overall I’d say that Candy Blox are more fun to play with than they are to eat and if I just spent ~1,500 words bitching about how much of a pain in the ass they are to build with that doesn’t exactly look good for the “candy” part of “Candy Blox”. In short, they evoke a sensation not unlike that of sucking on an actual Lego. The candies don’t have sharp corners but they’re hard as a rock and they do have literal edges to them so I guess it’s like eating a Duplo block or something instead. I’ve been wanting to do this article for a while now and have had these candies in my desk for just as long — about a year — so I bought a fresh carton of these things to make sure mine hadn’t gone off. Nope, both the “fresh” Candy Blox and the ones that were sitting in my desk are both capable of cutting diamonds. I can’t tell if their hardness is an issue with preservatives or if they used a black hole to compress the powder they’re made from into the block molds but whatever the case is for all intents and purposes these are standalone building toys that showed zero signs of decomposition after almost a year of me leaving them in a dark drawer.
I considered stepping on a Candy Blox to see if they match up to Lego bricks but by that point I realized this stupid gimmick had gone on long enough and I was ready to end this article and then write myself off to a future of eating these candies for the next fourteen years because they take almost literally forever to eat.
Over the course of consolidating my hatred of these candies into a single paragraph I built a tower using all of the Candy Blox from one of the two cartons I had. This is how it turned out and this is also a fairly good barometer for just how many of these things come in a single package:
Now that we’re at the literal end of this article I guess the big question is “do I recommend these candies to you”. The answer is a resounding no. If you want fruit flavored candies go buy a bag of Runts. If you want building blocks go buy a Lego set. Don’t mix the two. If for whatever reason you can’t resist the urge to buy Candy Blox I have some good news for you; you can buy three pounds of the shit for only eight dollars on Amazon.
Because the last time I paid eight bucks for three pounds of something I was deeply satisfied with the quality of the product.
Pay attention to the current media and you might hear something about a flurry of hatred surrounding national US fast food chain Chick-Fil-A (pronounced “chick filet” in case you’re an idiot). But why? Why is there so much hatred for a restaurant chain that serves nothing but chicken and chicken by-products? Why hate on a franchise company whose only crime is poultry mass genocide? Well, it’s because the owner of the company is a religious shitbag who’s one of those “support traditional marriage” types and has donated upwards of 7 figures to organizations that are notoriously and vehemently anti-gay.
I’m going to resist the urge to soapbox more than I already have, but seriously, I have to say it’s good to see people as whole coming together and saying “hey, this isn’t cool” to petty bigots trying to keep kind and nontheatening gays from enjoying the benefits of legal marriage. It’s a really good feeling to see people realizing that it’s wrong to keep others down solely because of sexual orientation and it’s good to see Chick-Fil-A losing an insane amount of business because of it. The American people might not know how to take all of their country back but this right here? This is a victory.
I’m going to don some hipster glasses, though, because even though I’m 100% for marriage equality I haven’t been eating at Chick-Fil-A for years prior to this current shitstorm. None of my reasons are gay-related, either (but I mean, they are now I guess). Here’s 3 reasons why I’ve ceased dining at the subpar establishment known as “chicka filla”.
3. Their service sucks.
Food service in a national chain of restaurants is largely a case-by-case basis; that’s why you can eat at a Denny’s in one town and have a twitchy meth addict as a waitress and in another have a lively and sociable college student instead. When I say “Chick-Fil-A’s service sucks” I don’t mean that I went to some one-off franchise location where the person behind the register didn’t speak English and the worker who put my sandwich together had Parkinson’s; what I mean is their fundamental “rules” on how they handle transactions is a needlessly complicated load of shit.
I can’t eat mayonnaise. It will make me violently ill. Maybe it’s an allergy to an ingredient, maybe it’s something else. I just know one thing: if mayonnaise touches my mouth then I will be in the bathroom all night making spin art with my asshole.
All of Chick-Fil-A’s sandwiches come with mayonnaise on them so I kindly asked if I could have it taken off, which is entirely do-able. I then asked if I could have a tomato slice on the sandwich instead of the condiment to which I was told “yes, but we charge extra for that”.
Serious? You can’t take 49 cents’ worth of mayonnaise and replace it with 49 cents of tomato? This is a real thing, this is really happening? Like, I can’t have one piece of vegetable on my drier-than-a-fucking-nun sandwich but I can have all the vomit-inducing mayo I want?
I asked if I could have free ketchup on it instead and they told me yes. I then asked again why I had to pay for a version of tomato that requires less processing than a slurry of tomato paste, sugar, and vinegar. They did not have an answer, just “that’s just how the company runs”.
2. Their fucking cow ad campaign.
“EAT MOR CHIKIN” was funny to me when I was seven. “Haha, those cows don’t want you to eat them. Mom can we go to Burger King?”
I get it. There are cows doing “people things” and it’s funny because they’re supporting Chick-Fil-A because they don’t want to be eaten like they would at other fast food places. They’re just silly uneducated livestock standing around making a lot of noise while attempting to avoid the inevitable fate that comes for all of us. Fuck, that statement was more of an analogy than I was intending.
But here’s the thing, their mascots aren’t lovable. They’re just cattle. The cows are cute in a “look what grandma is sharing on Facebook” kind of way but other than that they’re just a blatant symbol of American consumerism, mass production, and streamlining. It’s kind of fucked up, just like the “happy cows” butter commercial. Fuck you, there are no “happy cows”. We’ve bred them, all of them, to live in metal boxes without sunlight.
Though I must say, I find it incredibly ironic that Chick-Fil-A has based their entire consumer identity around livestock protesting the “status quo” yet can’t seem to handle their shit properly when the American public turns around and uses the same tactic against them. Boo fucking hoo.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go walk around holding a sign that says “SUK MOR DIKS”.
1. Their food tastes like shit anyways.
Ultimately, what things come down to is that their food just tastes like shit to begin with. I know it’s stupid to eat at a fast food restaurant and expect something fantastic but no matter where you go there’s at least something on the menu that doesn’t taste like utter despair. Chick-Fil-A doesn’t have this; they just don’t. I’ve eaten at probably a half dozen of these places in my lifetime and none of them were anything special. The university I went to even had a Chick-Fil-A and if the sheer price of the food didn’t turn me away my memories of chewy chicken and gritty potatoes sure as hell did.
Every time I ate at Chick-Fil-A their food was just terrible. The buns were soggy, the pickles had the consistency of used condoms, and the tomatoes were just this congealed mess of pink-ish green plant matter. The chicken itself tasted like an old sock that was boiled in bathwater that a baby had massive taco shits in. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about their food and you know it’s bad when you take a bite of something and say “this needs salt” when the food itself is already 90% fucking salt to begin with.
There is absolutely nothing redeeming about Chick-Fil-A. Classmates at my alma matter would rave about their waffle fries. Fan-fucking-tastic, they can cook a potato.
In the end, people will be people — and people are stupid. People of faith will stuff their faces with a disgusting preservative-laden piece of fried meat en masse if it means that two guys or two girls cannot marry but I guarantee you almost all of them would never be caught dead working in a food bank or a soup kitchen or doing any sort of charity work for that matter. The extent of their “godliness” is eating an overpriced turd sandwich for the simple reason that in doing so they feel like they’re supporting a company who’s doing nothing but contributing money to organizations making efforts to keep civil, decent people in the dark and fuck you if you support that noise.
The fact that there was so much initial support from religious fundies is sickening. There are dozens of things wrong with the world — and wrong with this shithole of a “country” for that matter — and the one thing these retards focus on is “how can we continue to oppress gays today”. Just think of the good that could be done if everybody in the picture at the top of this article came together to do something good for the world. Imagine if everybody who bought a shitty $5 value meal gave that $5 to cancer research or a children’s hospital. Imagine if they put their hivemind instincts together to achieve something that I can’t even fathom right now. No. Instead it was decided that the day would be spent hating and saying/doing hurtful, terrible things to people who are not deserving of such hate.
Fuck all of you.
Here at GatorAIDS we like to recycle. When I can’t think of something to do sometimes I like to dust off old things I’ve written in years gone by and tidy them up for today’s audience. People do that with their “greatest hits” all the time; in fact when GatorAIDS dies and I move on to writing for some other website with a stupid name I’ll surely be recycling everything from this site’s “Greatest Hits” category. Back in 2007 I wrote a three-part series of articles called “Energizing Energy Drinks” for RFSHQ.com; the response was so positive I revisited the idea in 2008 with a fourth installment. Now, in 2012, I’ve decided to return to an old friend…
When I wrote these articles the first time around I graded the drinks on the following criteria: Appearance, Ingredients, Smell, Taste, and Energy Received. I don’t really know why I stuck “Smell” in there, I think it was just to pad word count. Whatever the reason, these sorely need to be updated. Today I will be sampling five energy drinks and judging them on my new Energy Drink Rubric 2.0: Presentation, Buzzwords, Taste, Energy Received, and a fifth bonus category tailored to each individual drink.
Presentation: 1/10. I don’t know what the fuck a “Stacker2” is or whatever happened to Stacker1 assuming it existed in the first place. I figured I could learn more about the company by visiting their website but instead I was blasted by a nightmare of web design that led me in circles and offered nothing except boilerplate copy and the knowledge that this drink is produced by a company called “NVE Pharmaceuticals”. Yummy.
Also the color scheme of the can is visually revolting and offensive and always has been; back when I drank a Stacker2 for RFSHQ the can looked like trash with a bee on it.
Buzzwords: 1/10. Gyrating Grape. I realize they’re going for alliterations in their drink titles but “gyrating” isn’t really ever a good word. Like “moist”; it just sounds disgusting. Whatever mental image you have of a “gyrating grape” keep it to yourself. This shit’s like 5 Gum, everyone experiences it differently but no one is happy with it.
Taste: 4/10. I’m guessing you wouldn’t be surprised to find out that “gyrating grape” is just a bland imitation grape flavor. It’s not a natural “made with real fruit juice” grape, it ‘s just a gross imitation candy grape that tastes like melted Airheads and despair. If “depression” was a flavor it would taste exactly like this.
Energy Received: 6/10. It drove me to start this article series again.
Likelihood This Drink is Bad For You: 10/10. Stacker2 is just one thing in NVE Pharmaceuticals’ repertoire of things. The rest of their portfolio consists of those shady energy pills they sell at gas stations with pictures of bees and other weird shit on them.
Presentation: 1/10. Looks like there’s at least one person out there who’s clicked a Smiley Central banner ad.
Buzzwords: 10/10. There are only two real buzzwords on Loco Tonic’s bottle: “liquid dietary supplement” and “L-carnitine”. I’m pointing them out solely because L-carnitine is a supplement popular among men who want to “perform better” in the bedroom and equip their gun with a “larger magazine”– you know what, fuck it. JIZZ EVERYWHERE. No more euphemisms, that’s why people take L-carnitine. Copious amounts of man milk combined with the unobtrusive “liquid dietary supplement” just sounds like an inappropriate raunchy joke waiting to happen.
And I’m about to put it in my mouth.
Taste: 7/10. Loco Tonic tastes not unlike a stick of Juicy Fruit gum. There are obvious sour pangs of whatever additives have been dumped into it (that’s the L-carnitine I taste!) but out of all of the “5 Hour Energy”-esque shots that come in these tiny bottles this is actually one of the least offensive. 5 Hour Energy tastes like an old sock that someone tried brewing bong water with; Loco Tonic, stupid emoticon aside, isn’t that bad. One shot plus a stick of real Juicy Fruit gum to avoid the inevitable bad aftertaste is enough. Normally I write these articles to make fun of these drinks but there’s not a whole lot I can say to ridicule something that isn’t that bad so I’ll just reiterate JIZZ EVERYWHERE.
Energy Received: 10/10. Let me quote the Bible to explain this drink: “She lusted after lovers with genitals as large as a donkey’s and emissions like those of a horse.” (Ezekiel 23:20)
How Much it Looks Like Dirty Urine: 11/10. One of the reasons why these drinks come packaged in opaque bottles is because the liquid inside is generally colored in very unappealing ways (e.g. the liquid inside a can of regular Monster energy is pink). Loco Tonic is no different. The amount of resemblance between this drink and a urine sample from someone who hasn’t drank water in a month is staggering. Congratulations, Go Loco, your drink is one elaborate dick joke.
Presentation: 2/10. Whoever designed the aluminum can for this drink seems to have bought one pack of royalty-free “tribal” themed flames and just ran with it indefinitely. The can is covered in what amounts to orange and red douchebag tattoos repeated to infinity (six times). I applaud them for getting their money’s worth out of something that could not have cost more than a buck from iStockphoto.
Buzzwords: 8/10. Normally you’d think “HIGH OCTANE ENERGY DRINK” would be the appropriate buzzword to point out on the can but I’m not going that route today; they don’t repeat it enough times on the can for me to warrant doing anything more than laughing at them for using the most obvious subtitle imaginable for a drink called “FUEL”. I’m going to give props to the term “fuel” itself because it appears in every single slice of text on the can. FUEL YOUR WORKOUT. FUEL YOUR METABOLISM. FUELED WITH B VITAMINS. FUELED WITH FUEL.
Maybe I lied about the last one.
My favorite part of the can is the text that reads “LONG LASTING FUEL FOR YOUR BODY AND MIND*”. The asterisk is what sells it for me because it could lead to anything such as “…because we’re about to blow it to fucking kingdom come” or “…to unlock the mysteries of the universe” or even “…for non-stop all night meth cooking action!” As it turns out the asterisk leads to some microscopic disclaimer that the FDA won’t touch energy drinks with a 10-foot pole and that Fuel isn’t meant to treat or cure any diseases other than being lazy as shit, apparently.
Taste: 10/10. I’ve tasted well over 20 energy drinks in the years that I’ve been subjecting myself to this crap in the name of comedy and virtually all of them tasted like watered down piss or actually piss itself in full unrefined flavor. As stupid as the packaging of the drink is with its tribal flames and implications of its mind-expanding properties what sits inside the can is a relatively inoffensive drink. I can’t make fun of it; it tastes like citrus soda. So often these articles about these drinks end up being funny because I get to compare their tastes to that of horse urine and radioactive waste but here’s something I cannot tear into in good faith. Fuel is The One.
Energy Received: 2/10. LEAVE LOVE BLEEDING IN MY HANDS…
90’s Grunge Band Namesake Points: 10/10. …IN MY HANDS AGAIN.
Presentation: 1/10. Slap Frozen is an energy drink that comes in a plastic juice pouch and must be thrown in the freezer before it reaches its intended state for consumption. In a market where everyone’s focusing on recyclable cans and plastic bottles Slap is here to say “fuck the environment and PS this packaging will become cold as shit and impossible to hold when frozen”. The pouch says to freeze and squeeze and let it sit three minutes before consuming (so it has time to turn into a slushy mixture) but that wasn’t long enough. In fact I typed up almost all of the entry text for Slap Frozen for this article before the energy slush was anywhere near ready to be opened.
It’s worth noting that the packaging Slap Frozen comes in is total shit. I really didn’t want to buy it in green apple flavor because I saw Walmart had a strawberry melon blend available and that isn’t a common flavor however when I reached for that one I saw that every single strawberry pouch had burst and ruined the ones around it. Most of the pouches felt like the aftermath of a Japanese bukkake session and were “unpleasant” to handle and touch to put it nicely. To put it rudely, well, read the section on “taste”.
Buzzwords: 3/10. Slap is pretty cheap with their text, I guess they didn’t have enough in their budget to warrant more than about a dozen or so words on their glorified Caprisun pouch after paying for the patent rights used by portable applesauce. The only dialogue on the packaging that could be considered a “buzzword” is Slap’s claim that it contains “25% more energy than the leading brands” which leads me to believe that the company producing Slap Frozen used to make batteries.
Taste: -Infinity/10. Apple Slap, which I am herein referring to as “slapple”, is probably one of the most offensive things I have ever put into my mouth. The drink itself is a disgustingly sticky mixture of ice and what I am assuming is a cocktail of energy supplements that do not freeze. It feels like a half-frozen loogie and tastes like cough syrup although I don’t believe this is a drink you can trip on so instead it just tastes like sugary apple-flavored vomit. Congratulations, Slap company, you’ve managed to make something that offends every human sensory organ. I bet if you showed this drink to the kid from The Sixth Sense he’d fall comatose.
Energy Received: 1/10. Whatever energy I gained from this drink was previously burned off in the body heat required to melt the goddamned thing.
Likelihood of This Drink Having a Bonus Category: 0/10. Fuck you, Slap Frozen.
Presentation: 4/10. If you took the overall design of Rockstar energy, solid colors and stars, and tried to “black it up” this is probably what it would look like. Also, the name this company settled on is sure to turn heads for obvious racial reasons.
Buzzwords: 10/10. This drink probably has the best retarded slang out of anything I’ve ever seen or ever will see. Aside from being titled fucking CRUNK this drink proudly proclaims “with Ashwaganda” right on the can. I have no idea what the fuck “Ashwaganda” is but if you randomly threw that word at me I’d probably tell you it sounds like a black name and yet here it is on a can of grape drink proving once and for all that yes, it probably is a black name. Apparently “Ashwaganda” is some kind of root extract but it doesn’t help that it sounds like an African country. Removed from the context of the can the word makes the most sense in the following sentence: “For just 10 cents a day you can provide food, clothing, and education to a child in Ashwaganda.”
Crunk also features an ingredient called “Horny Goat Weed”. No, I’m fucking serious. I’d never heard of this before and honestly I can’t seem to figure out what the hell it is because every time I punch “horny goat weed” into Bing the results are an even split between bestiality porn and people lobbying to legalize marijuana. I’m sure my ISP is going to love that.
Taste: 4/10. It tastes not unlike that fancy “sparkling grape juice” you can buy in a nice glass bottle at an inflated price at Walmart. The only pang of uneven flavor comes from what I imagine is the açaí berry flavor. Açaí showed up as “superfruit” status a few years ago and now people just dump that shit into everything because it has antioxidants or whatever healthy green organic buzzword is hip to use right now (flavonoids). It tastes like an old strawberry and in five years’ time I’m sure we’ll have found some other foreign obscure piece of fruit to fawn over.
Energy Received: 3/10. I went and recorded a rap album.
Implied Racism: 0/10. A grape flavored energy drink named “CRUNK”. How is this not racist? Because it just isn’t. If you’re laughing at the design and advertising strategy of this drink it’s because your skin color is probably white. Crunk is funny to me because I’m not black nor am I a part of “urban culture”. Phrases like “get crunk” and ingredients that rhyme with “Lafonda” don’t get me nodding my head saying “aww yeah imma buy dis shit”. Crunk is funny to me because somewhere out there is a douchebag tweeting a picture of himself holding a can of this with #crunk and #swag at the end of it and he’s not doing it ironically.
If you subscribe to the demographic who listen to hip hop and modify their cars to jump into outer space then when someone says “hey go to the store and get me a can of Crunk” you’re probably not going to reply to that with assholish laughter because that sentence usually ends with a bullet hole.
Valentine’s Day is that special day of the year where those of us who are lucky enough to have a significant other present him/her a declaration of our undying love by means of a $5 heart-shaped box of chocolates with disgusting toothpaste-flavored filling; and for those of us who are less fortunate… well, men have Fleshlights, women have anything phallic-shaped, and both have deep feelings of self loathing and an unabashed hatred for Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day is one of the worst days of the year if not the shittiest day of the year if you’re a single somebody because no other day so forcefully reminds you of your worthless solitary existence like the unofficial Public Display of Affection Olympics. Regardless, all of us have something in common and that something is conversation hearts.
If disease-festering chocolate seems a little too tacky of a gift for Valentine’s Day there’s always the equally if not more inept choice of Necco Sweethearts, the popular chalk candy conversation hearts that have loving (and current) sentiments like “FAX ME” written on them. It’s worth noting that in the previous sentence either the word “chalk” or “candy” should have had quotation marks added for sarcasm but I’m just as confused as you are in determining whether or not we’re dealing with candy that has the consistency of chalk or chalk that can also be eaten without too many ill effects. Either way, Necco’s happy accident is a new form of matter.
Dating as far back as 500 B.C. Sweethearts came in six flavors: Mint, an unspecified yellow fruit, spearmint, Pepto Bismol, orange (the fruit), and purple (the color). Which ones constituted as actual candy is debatable but generally people ate the white and yellow hearts and used the others to draw dinosaurs on the sidewalk. Necco decided to change all of that this year though and completely overhauled their popular candy, dropping the white hearts for blue ones, changing all of the flavors around, and in an overly publicized non-newsworthy event added “TWEET ME” to their archaic vocabulary of love. The new 2010 flavors of Necco Sweethearts are so terrible that it’s impossible they were an accident because a screw up of this magnitude is something that requires focused effort.
Here’s six reasons why Necco ruined Valentines Day this year.
You’d think after Necco completely tarnished the color pink by making their rosy hearts taste like a concoction used to relieve diarrhea and nausea that a step in any direction would be an improvement. Believe it or not they managed to make a “strawberry” flavor that tastes less like strawberry and more like the Fruit Roll Up that your friends dared you to eat in 9th grade after it fell behind the microwave when you were in 4th grade. There’s not even a passing resemblance to the Valentine’s Day staple fruit, just a hint of stale cotton candy without the introspective contempt of having sat in a vomit-soaked Tilt-O-Whirl seat at a seedy traveling carnival. Chocolate-covered strawberries in the context of love are even more erotic than regular strawberries but don’t even think about trying to combine a strawberry 2010 Sweetheart with a chocolate one (sold separately). You will be sent back in time.
Prior to this “gritty reboot” of the Sweethearts candy the purple hearts never really had a flavor; they were just a really poor joke at the expense of soldiers injured in war and your grandfather secretly hated you for giving him all of the purple conversation hearts. Admittedly the flavor was probably supposed to be grape but the pre-2010 version of it was so confusing and bland that it’s rumored even Einstein himself wept quietly as the answer eluded him. Today’s answer to “grape” comes close to tasting like the purple vineyard fruit we all know and love, and by “comes close” I actually mean “it has a passing resemblance to raw celery soaked in sugar water and Grape Kool-Aid”. It’s gritty (in texture not theme) and it’s depressing but it merely manages to remove one unmentionable flavor and replace it with another.
Apple is a flavor that’s extremely hit or miss with sugary confectioneries. If you’re eating Skittles they hit the nail on the head, but if you’re purchasing store-brand apple soda you’ll find yourself second, third, and fourth guessing your purchase while simultaneously wishing you’d have added Pepto Bismol (or at least pink Sweethearts circa 2009) to your grocery list. Taking a fresh mint flavor and swapping it with green apple is like an Evil Kinevel leap across an alligator-filled lake of sensory experience. Necco’s green apple doesn’t quite make the jump and is instead thoroughly raped by alligators, emerging at the shore as a wash of unpalatable sweet reminiscent of the lollipops that banks gave to kids they really really hated. I’d also like to point out that this is likely the only time you’ll read a candy flavor analogy that utilizes Evil Kinevel, rapist alligators, and banks; that’s a special trifecta. Cherish it.
This one personally offends me, really, because the original yellow Sweethearts were my favorite ones. The original yellow flavor was just “fruit”; nothing more, nothing less. We were never told what kind of fruit it was, just to let our imaginations run wild and choose for us and I settled on Orgasmberry (it’s native to Japan). Replacing that with this foul and sour excuse for candy is a sin and a flavor this bad should be condemned to the rolls of Necco wafers, the ones with a color palette made of fail and a flavor selection that even people in the 1900’s probably thought was horrible. Sweethearts’ lemon has the flavor of a Lemonhead candy which isn’t bad, but considering these hearts fall apart and turn into chalk dust once they hit your tongue the candy becomes more of a biological weapon than an actual candy.
I feel bad for orange (the fruit) because whoever came across it literally could not have cared any less when he named the newly discovered fruit; either that or it was the result of a coin flip and luck just wasn’t in Citromaniatastical’s favor that day. Orange is the only flavor that made the migration to the new cast, kind of like Josh Server sticking around on All That in the 1990’s while the show was busy going to hell. Necco really could have left orange alone and done nothing with it but of course leaving well enough alone is never good enough these days, so now they’ve made it into a heart that has the same taste and consistency of a chewable vitamin C tablet minus the benefit of a healthy dose of vitamin C. It’s a candy for those of us who want to remember all the winters our mothers made us pop chewy orange pills like addicts because she believed that cold temperatures alone harbored the flu.
There is nothing to compare this flavor to because it’s taking the place of the white mint hearts so this daring new venture into the unknown is a complete mystery. The hearts I ate said “MY BOO” and “MARRY ME” but they may as well have just had a question mark stamped onto both of them (“UR EX” would have been appropriate too). I can’t quite follow the flavor of these new and unwelcome guest hearts but they taste oddly like kid’s toothpaste with the same lingering sour aftertaste of the citrus-flavored hearts. If you could stick a little sandwich flag in a flavor that epitomized despair and hate it would be this very concoction. All in all blue raspberry is a surprise ending more awkward and confusing than the end of The Sixth Sense and only cements the fact that one of the best seasonal candies in the United States just spiraled into a vortex of ChalkZone rule 34 and failed flavoring recipes pulled out of the dumpster of the Jones Soda Company.
Originally I bought a box of Twilight-themed Sweethearts to write about because I’ve had prior experience to the continued awfulness that is the miles-long skidmark Stephanie Meyer has made on the face of modern literature. I bought this bag of “classic” Sweethearts just because I traditionally do so every year but after having eaten a few of them I decided that making fun of glittery passion fruit-flavored conversation hearts with “DAZZLE” and “BITE ME” written on them suddenly wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. Even though only a third of the original Sweethearts were edible, those two flavors made up for the mish-mash of mistakes left in the bottom of the box after you shook the good ones out and ate them. 2010’s Sweethearts flavors have nothing to back them up except a bunch of Internet-age garbage stamped onto them; an unfortunate sign of the times.
Valentine’s Day is depressing enough when you spend it by yourself, because contrary to popular belief “Hey baby I write humor on the Internet” does not function as a pick-up line and the nickname Dracophile doesn’t help either. Sitting around with other doomed-to-be-eternally-single friends drinking Mountain Dew and eating sweet chalky nothings was at least a passable way for us all to drown our sorrows but now it’s just an image of us sitting around and drinking without the candy. Last time I checked that was something I called “every other weekend of the year”.
Fuck you, Necco.
Last time on “Don’t Put That In Your Mouth” I defied my own intuition in regards to Chocolate Mix Skittles and went ahead and put them in my mouth. That was a bad move and clearly I do not learn from my mistakes; this time around I will be putting the Jelly Belly “Bean Boozled” jelly beans to the test. Compared to Jelly Belly the Skittles are small potatoes because when Jelly Belly makes purposefully bad flavors they do it with a precision unrivaled by anybody else on the face of the Earth (keep in mind I said “on purpose” there, otherwise virtually every single candy that comes out of Mexico would be on this list – it’s not their fault they substitute sugar with chili powder, I think). I have formerly gone toe to toe with some of Jelly Belly’s off-key flavors when they had those special Harry Potter beans, and much to my horror they have seen new life as Bean Boozled beans; beans with the ability to hide amongst the good flavored ones and bite you when you least expect it. Dear God, these are V beans!!
Even the box art is bizarre. In the upper left corner (the RED one nur hur) there’s a picture of a pear crossed with a skunk with an exploding rectum (which is incorrect according to the back of the box, see below). I’m intrigued already, how about you? Below that is a plum which looks suspiciously like a butt (there may actually be a butt flavor I’m not 100% sure) and a pepper grinder, some people might like a little extra pepper on their butts… you know, to kick it up a notch. Like Emeril. In the blue square we have a berry and a toothbrush; the last time I saw a pairing like this was probably on that pro-brushing-your-teeth-all-the-god-damn-time show Timmy the Tooth. Finally in what I call the “loser square” there’s popcorn and a broken egg… which are basically two flavors so gross and interchangeable if this were a contest they would win by default.
So, like I previously stated, this is a terror I have already experienced firsthand. I think the criteria I held them to will uphold quite nicely for this article so I will be carrying them over. However all of those beans were in the Harry Potter promotional package so they had their own colors and patterns; in this new assortment they all are meant to look like existing flavors so I will be tossing out the “Appearance” category and running on these three instead:
- Smell: This is basically how I’m going to tell them apart from the real beans, if you smush one in your fingers it’ll smell like whatever the flavor is.
- Flavor: This is a judgment of how bad (or possibly good?) each of the beans taste initially.
- Aftertaste: This is the flavor they leave lingering behind after I’ve either swallowed them, spit them out, or gone into cardiac arrest.
- Like I said the whole purpose of these beans is for them to masquerade as existing flavors so you don’t know which one you are eating until you put one in your mouth. This unwieldy practice dates back to them making Cinnamon and Very Cherry the same fucking color and ruining many childrens’ afternoons because of it. Looking at these I see ten of Jelly Belly’s most popular flavors and right next to them I see ten flavors someone in the R&D department came up with when he wanted to get fired from his job. Unlike the Chocolate Mix Skittles, which I said may have been explained by a simple mix-up of paperwork going to the M&M’s and Skittles factories, there is no explanation for Jelly Belly to hide behind with these flavors. They made them because they hate you, they want you to suffer, and they want you to know that. They are mean enough to make something as innocent as a peach turn into vomit the second you bite into it and frankly that’s a cruel joke that I wouldn’t even play on somebody I really hated. Not even Mark Wahlberg. There is a special place in Hell for whoever thought this was a good idea.
(top row, far left)
Jelly Belly doesn’t even fuck around here. They skipped all possible “kiddy pool” flavors (Kiddy Pool — urine and chlorine — would have been a great idea) and went straight to a flavor that I’m fairly certain not even die hard furries are going to enjoy and when speaking about a community that encompasses every possible fetish under the sun and then some, that’s saying a lot. A lot a lot.
Smell: It smells of rancid coffee. I’m already regretting this article. 1/10
Taste: I can’t even describe this, I am seriously trying to hold it down but I just dry heaved over the trash can several times. Steve-O from Jackass has done less humiliating things than this. -Furries/10
Aftertaste: If you want me to be honest with you I don’t even know I just started eating Licorice beans to make the pain go away. ???/10
(top row, second from left)
You know what’s funny? This is a loaded bean design. It doesn’t matter which flavor you get because I know Rotten Egg is meant to be bad, but so is Buttered Popcorn. You lose either way, so what’s the point of putting this recursive bean in your mouth? I don’t know, you tell me.
Smell: If I told you it smelled like “bad eggs” I’d just be reiterating the name of this bean, so instead I will just say “sulfur”. 2/10
Taste: They’ve gotten better at this since the last time I ate one of these. It tastes horrible. Why do they have to be so good at this? 0/10
Aftertaste: After recollecting myself and refraining from hovering over the trash can any longer the “smell” of plastic grocery bags weighed heavily on my tongue. 2/10
(not pictured, those are two Coconut beans)
Ear Wax, Cafe Latte, Coconut, and Baby Wipes all look the same to me. There are neither of the first two in this box. The gods of Internet comedy have shined their light down on me.
(top row, middle)
I find this bean the most personally offensive because it is disguised as a Juicy Pear which is a flavor of Jelly Belly that I can consume my weight in. I am fairly certain after this portion of the article I will have the equivalent of a Vietnam flashback whenever I see my (former) favorite flavor bean. I guess it is time I get a new one.
Smell: It smells suspiciously of some kind of overgrown weeds. Not “weeds” as in “420” but “weeds” as in “I probably should have sprayed Weed-B-Gone on those plants before they turned into tentacle rape monsters”. 5/10
Taste: It tastes exactly like the way it smells plus a copious helping of both sweet and salty. I think I know how it feels to be violated by a product of Japan now. 3/10
Aftertaste: It’s lingering aftertaste is iden-tacle (see what I did there?) to the above two scores, just minus the sweet. 2/10
(top row, far right)
Last time I did this article I believe this was called Soap but that flavor was so bland and overshadowed by the other monstrosities that I hardly remember it and since I don’t make it a habit to eat soap whenever I’m bored I don’t really know what to expect. Alternatively I can make a bunch of jokes about me being a potty mouth or something, but that’s not as funny. “Buttwipe” is a pretty funny word though.
Smell: It smells like baby powder and soap, you know, like a fucking baby. 7/10
Taste: This is honestly the first bean that is manageable for me that didn’t make me want to immediately empty my stomach and void my bowels. It’s kinda dry but not at all unpleasant. 6/10
Aftermath: I FEEL SO FRESH AND CLEAN, SUCK IT ORBIT GUM. 8/10
(bottom row, far left)
I write a lot. I also color a lot too, with expensive Prismacolors nonetheless! I know a lot about pencils and now that I have actually physically written the phrase “I know a lot about pencils” my life just seems so much more futile. Maybe by the time we are done with this article it will have spiraled down into my memoirs and ultimately my last will and testament.
Smell: I want to say it smells like wood shavings but it doesn’t. It just smells like burning waffles and I don’t know if that qualifies as “sheer terror” or not. I’m leaning towards “no”, though. 5/10
Taste: It tastes nothing like pencil shavings. I can’t quite put my finger on what the hell it is exactly, but it’s not bad… but not that great either. 5/10
Aftermath: After tasting kind of like a toothpick it just turns into a generic sweet taste. I dunno, I guess they were too busy testing Horse Testicles flavored beans that they forgot about this one. 5/10
(bottom row, second from left)
I don’t know about you but I fail to see how Toothpaste can be considered a bad flavor. It certainly is pretty strange, but after listing Skunk Spray and Rotten Egg on the box before it the appeal of Toothpaste just seems a little lacking I guess. I’m beginning to think that whoever wrote up the ideas for these flavors just wrote down things that he saw in the bathroom while he was doing his business. Then he did his business and wrote that down too.
Smell: I’m going to go out on a limb here and quote the virtually unknown Code: BS and scream “IT SMELLS LIKE TOOTHPASTE”. 8/10
Taste: Would it be below me to say that a very cool and refreshing hybrid of spearmint and peppermint is *gasp* good? How is this not a regular flavor? 10/10
Aftertaste: You know that awesome “cool” feeling you get when you breathe in after eating a mint? Yeah, it’s kinda like that. 10/10
(bottom row, middle)
The buck stops here. Not only does the buck stop here, it also…
- (if talking about a male deer) …craps itself until its intestines fall out, turns inside out, and forms a black hole. The universe subsequently dies.
- (it talking about an American dollar) …does exactly what the economy is doing right now: backflips off of a diving board made of George W. Bush’s cock into a pool of Dick Cheney’s slobber and shotgun pellets.
I don’t even have to eat this bean for me to tell you how indescribably painful it is. This entire article has been a cakewalk compared to this single bean. I sampled this bean when I wrote the Harry Potter article and back then it was so offensively colored it basically screamed “IT WOULD NOT BE IN YOUR BEST INTEREST TO EAT ME”. The Harry Potter beans were an experiment in camouflage. Animals usually don’t eat the extravagantly colored plants because those are usually poisonous; if you opened a box of Harry Potter beans and avoided all of the beans that were colored really strangely you would never run into anything gross. This is not the case this time because now Vomit is disguised as an innocent Peach bean.
Smell: I’ve seen things, man. Remember that thing I said about Vietnam flashbacks? I’m having one. It’s that same putrid smell that I sincerely wished I’d never ever run into again. 0/10
Taste: No more than two seconds in I was hit with that same literally vomit inducing taste that I so keenly remember. Previously on RFSHQ I commented that it had a “sweet” kick to it. There is nothing sweet this time around, it is gut-wrenchingly sour and has some kick of god knows what that makes your skin crawl. -Infinity/10
Aftertaste: Like disgusting old rotten spaghetti. I couldn’t take it, I started eating all of the Toothpaste beans I had laying around (there were a lot in the box) to get rid of it and not even that fully worked. -10/10
(bottom row, second from right)
You know, by this point I really do know it’s all downhill from here. “Bad cheese” doesn’t even have the same psychological impact as “vomit” does as a name, there is no contest here. It’s also worth mentioning that when this color bean isn’t pretending to taste like Taco Bell it’s Caramel Corn which by itself is another gross flavor. Jelly Belly doesn’t have very good luck with their popcorn related flavors which is probably because popcorn was never meant to be a fucking jelly bean.
Smell: I let down my guard and wasn’t expecting anything and instead the sharp jab of… something… burned my nostrils. It smells vaguely of the Booger formula. Cheese tentacle rape? Oh god, oh god it’s the Kraft Mac & Cheese dinosaur. HE’S COMING TO GET ME WITH HIS CHEESY APPENDAGES. 1/10
Taste: I’m pretty sure I have graduated from whatever school all of those young nubile Japanese girls go to. You know, the one where they all get violated. This isn’t good at all. It’s definitely not cheese flavored, I don’t even know what the hell this is… but it’s not cheese. Off-brand Cheetos taste closer to cheese than this. -5/10
Aftermath: I am fairly upset that I ate all of my Toothpaste beans all at once. If role playing games have taught me anything it’s that you gotta string those recovery items out and make them last a long long time. 0/10
(top row, second from right)
Black Pepper is the last bean of the article and also the last one that I have previously encountered. I was dumb enough to let Booger, Rotten Egg, and Vomit fool me a second time into thinking they hadn’t changed so I’m not falling for that again. Fooling me four times in the same article? Who do you think I am, George W. Bush? (Also two Bush jokes in one article? I have sank to even lower lows.)
Smell: This is really kind of unprecedented but it smells very similar to how I described it on RFSHQ all that time ago. I said something about “rubber sealant” and that’s what I’m getting here. It’s not bad, it just smells industrial. This is a robot jelly bean… I am having really bad deja vu… 4/10
Taste: It tastes more akin to some kind of potpourri than any kind of peppercorn that I have ever inadvertently eaten. It’s almost reminiscent of Christmas, and it’s almost December, ya know. 4/10
Aftertaste: The spicyness kind of sneaks up on you here, it waits until that Bath & Body Works flavor is out of your mouth and then kinda gets you; it’s not a bad surprise though. I’m hungry, who wants barbecue? 3/10
It’s scary how much these flavors have advanced since the last time I sampled some of them. I made a joke last time about wondering how they tested these flavors for accuracy and now I am even more worried about the sanity of the poor lost souls whose job it was to try these flavors. Last time I chalked it up to taking a shot in the dark and just hoping the end result was somewhere remotely close to what the box said the flavor was, but this time I really don’t know because they IMPROVED on vomit and I am at a loss for words because of that. I mean theoretically I think we all know how they could have tested that but that tiny sliver of my soul that has some flickering hope in humanity that says otherwise is being smothered by the other 99.99% of me that is imagining someone in a flavor laboratory wearing a lab coat with a popsicle stick in one hand, a spoon in the other, and a bowl of suspiciously disgusting liquid on the table in front of him.
I think I am going to go sit in the corner and cry now.
Skittles are a classic candy that date back quite a ways (to 1979) and have enjoyed a modest amount of success by means of actually not being that bad as well as having outright bizarre and/or terrifying ad campaigns to support their product. Seriously, who hasn’t dreamed of planting a bag of Skittles into the ground in hopes that a giant rainbow would erupt from the Earth and rain candy on you? That’s seriously a wet dream for some people out there (Jared the Subway Guy, pre-Subway diet). Speaking of rainbows the fact that their slogan “Taste the Rainbow” sounds moderately homosexual is funny and I mean that in a tasteful way. Taste. Rainbow. Tasteful. Weiners. Hah. Back on subject, though, Skittles have come in a variety of flavors so awesome that I can only summarize the Wild Berry variety by saying “holy crap I am freaking out”; Tropical Mix is a close second. Sour Skittles are amazing and for that short period of time when Green Apple and Watermelon were flavors I enjoyed a few extra handfuls of the candies just because. In fact as I type this article I have a few “Fun Size” bags of Skittles tucked away in my desk… even though there is nothing “fun” about a bag of candy that only has somewhere around 8 Skittles in it.
Eventually you have to screw up somewhere down the line though and lo and behold Skittles finally hit a snag. In 2007 Mars rolled out “Chocolate Mix”, a new five flavor mix of Skittles based entirely on — you guessed it — chocolate (actually 4 chocolate and 1 vanilla but let’s not get technical here). On paper the idea sounded great I’m sure; little bite-size morsels of chocolate in a baggie is a wonderful idea. Actually wait a second, didn’t Mars already do something like this once before? Yeah, they did. Those candies are called M&M’s, and I’m pretty sure those aren’t a limited time only thing. Someone must have pulled a fast one and thought it would be funny to swap the labels on the folders marked “To Skittles Factory” and “To M&M’s Factory” because the only way I can consider a mistake of this magnitude being made is by the guy in the mail room at the Skittles plant scratching his head and saying “Well if it came from Corporate then they must be right. Let’s not upset them.”
I was at a dollar store a few days ago to pick up a few cheap snacks for a movie night and amongst the various boxes of candy I found this one bag of Chocolate Mix Skittles all by its lonesome (and likely far past its expiration date). There were no other bags of it in the store at all, just this one that had been tossed behind a display of conspicuous Tic Tac knock-offs. I tossed the bag of Skittles into my basket and ponied up the 59 cents (plus applicable taxes in the state of Texas) when the time came to checkout. For those of you readers who are “new” to who I am and my kind of off-beat humor I am no stranger to consuming weird and bizarre foods in the name of Internet comedy. I can safely say I’ve sampled well over a dozen bad energy drinks, Harry Potter jelly beans, Nutrisystem weight loss food, and even DIY teeth whitening applications that had the potential to end horribly just to make people laugh at my expense. It is with great pride that I re-introduce that brand of humor into the world with the newest installment of a side-column I like to call “Don’t Put That In Your Mouth”.
There are five flavors of Chocolate Mix Skittles: S’mores, Chocolate Pudding, Chocolate Caramel, Brownie Batter, and Vanilla. I will sample three of each flavor and score them in different areas based upon how poorly they perform their task of fulfilling my enjoyment of a late-nite snack. The criteria that the candies will be judged on are:
- Relevance: Is it something someone would think of when they hear “chocolate”?
- Flavor: If I have to describe this then you should just skip to the next article.
- Aftertaste: Does the Skittle have a pleasant lingering flavor?
First up is S’mores.
Relevance: S’mores are a campfire classic. Nothing beats the taste and aroma of a roasted marshmallow with a chunk of milk chocolate between two graham crackers. I’m not even going to make an inappropriate “sandwich” joke here because that’s how awesome this treat is. Fuck you. You cannot have s’mores without chocolate so to an extent this is quite relevant however the actual chocolate only makes up about 1/4th of the s’more treat, so I’m docking some points here. 6/10
Flavor: It has a hint of marshmallow and a curious taste that kind of resembles stale graham crackers with a hint of chocolate. It’s not bad, but it’s not anything to write home abou– uh, celebrate. 6/10
Aftertaste: It’s lacking, it just makes me feel like I should just make my own s’mores instead of eating these really bizarre imitations. 6/10
Relevance: Naming it “Chocolate Pudding” is kind of redundant all things considered; “Pudding” would have sufficed. If you tell someone “pudding” usually they will instantly think of Bill Cosby and by proxy they will think of his Pudding Pops commercial and thus come to the conclusion of “chocolate” (unless you as a 90 year old in which case they will say “butterscotch”), so this is a winner by association with a little help from incoherent babbling and funny faces. Frazzle snazzle. 10/10
Flavor: Have you ever gotten a bunch of Tootsie Rolls for Halloween and found yourself unable to finish them all? You leave them until Easter and eat another one and when you do it tastes all… stale… and nasty. They embodied that let-down feeling in this candy. It’s all gritty and unpalatable.. I think I’m eating cat litter. 3/10
Aftertaste: It’s not good. It’s not good at all. Make it go away. 2/10
Relevance: Adding caramel to chocolate works for Milky Way bars (which is the standard I am holding these to because Mars also manufactures those) but it’s not something people think about. What about Reese’s cups? Those have peanut butter and when I think of mixing things with chocolate I think of two things: peanuts and peanut butter… which is really the same thing so let’s just say nuts. Taste the rainbow. 5/10
Flavor: Do you know what that pure flavor syrup that they pour into coffee at Starbucks tastes like? I’m weird, I’m sorry. You probably think I just do shots and chasers of flavoring syrups now… that was a one time thing on a dare, I promise. It’s sweet, tastes nothing like caramel, and has this really bland almost bitter kick to it. 4/10
Aftertaste: I either just licked a pro ice skater’s socks or ate sugar and salt at the same time. 2/10
Relevance: Vanilla isn’t chocolate. It’s not even from the same plant as chocolate. It’s a popular ice cream flavor and that’s all it has in common with the cacao bean confection. What the hell is this doing here? 0/10
Flavor: Imitation vanilla extract is actually made from oak wood, Alton Brown taught me that. I don’t even know what kind of plant gave them this imitation extract but if I had to guess I would pin it on either crabgrass or poison ivy. 1/10
Aftertaste: Vanilla is supposed to be a soothing scent to calm nerves and establish pleasant moods. This manages to take that simple concept and crap all over it. 2/10
Relevance: Does anybody know anyone who makes any kind of brownie that isn’t chocolate? Because I don’t. “Brownie” translates to chocolate, but if you say that word in the wrong neighborhood you will be shot or offered cookies. 10/10
Flavor: OH DEAR GOD THIS ISN’T GOOD DO NOT WANT. 0/10
Aftertaste: where we’re going we don’t need eyes to see ;_; -10/10
That’s it, that’s all five flavors, and while things started out moderately pleasant they quickly spiraled into a sensory insanity of flavors that the taste testers came up with by mixing ingredients Jackson Pollock-style. I think Chocolate Mix is proof that the phrase “they can’t all be winners” applies to everyone. Microsoft had Windows Vista, Vanilla Ice had… well… everything, and Sonic the Hedgehog uh… well you see where I am going with this analogy. Chocolate Mix Skittles went by the wayside for a reason and that reason was because they tasted like the bastard child of Will It Blend and Dirty Jobs.
If you ever come across Chocolate Mix Skittles in your journeys… don’t put them in your mouth.
[Editor’s Note: Due to incomplete backups of RFSHQ’s content, this article contains media that is missing from its TwilightFoundry.com republication.]
Believe it or not Energizing Energy Drinks was one of the most successful series of articles on RFSHQ which means that we’re doing something right for once. Obviously, bad energy drinks translates into profit so now we have an encore performance starring three new energy drinks taken from the bargain store shelves of hell. Amongst the ranks of lost dreams and wages lay a stock of food and perishables on the brink of expiration if it weren’t for the fact that they are all sealed in airtight cans and bags. Welcome to hell, welcome to my hell.
We’ll be bringing back the old standard of judging the drinks. By this of course, I mean: Appearance, Ingredients, Smell, Taste, and Energy Received.
Appearance: Adorned with graphics likely pulled off of World War II fighter planes, Ace is not only a pilot reference, but also a poker reference as well. The can comes complete with a sexy nurse, some bullet holes and rivets, some American graphics, and a tiny little hatch where a “fire extinguisher” is supposed to be.
Ingredients: There is no flavor given to Ace but a quick browsing of the ingredients on the side of the can reveals pear, apple, pineapple, passion fruit, and mango. All of this, and of course the fact that there is only 10% juice, the other 90%, mind you, is bullshit. Without any kind of flavors mentioned, Ace goes on to proclaim that it’s “a dog fight out there” and once you “throw down an Ace” you’ll get a “physical and mental boost”. It sounds like cocaine if you ask me. It has all of this topped off with an orange pop top.
Smell: Perhaps it’s just me, but Ace smells a lot like some kind of toothpaste that’s heavily flavored with mango and passion fruit. I’ve consumed at least forty-eight tons of fruit cocktail in my life so far so I know my fruits when I smell them. I have also watched the Logo channel… but not out of choice I swear.
Taste: The second Ace hit my tongue I was met with sheer bitterness like you can’t imagine. If you were able to concentrate a few pounds of Pixy Stix powder into a liquid and put it into a can, this is exactly what Ace tastes like. It has both the aftertaste of a handful of powdered candy along with that curious sting left over from using mouthwash. If you can muscle your way past the mix of sour and dollar store confectioneries, Ace doesn’t taste as bad as some of the other stuff I’ve drank.
Energy Received: I’m not about to grow jet boosters out of my ass and take off but at the same time I’m having a difficult time keeping a straight line of thought here. Maybe it’s the ungodly amounts of Riboflavin.
Appearance: Rush has the appearance of cheap beer for some reason, it reminds me of a can of Keystone Light… not like I drink it or anything. The first thing I pick up on right away is that this is a bilingual energy drink. Everything aside from the name itself is in English and Spanish. Speaking of the name, what kind of a name is “Rush!” anyways? Every time I see it I immediately think of the Rush racing series of games and their silly little “Russssssssshhhh!” catchphrase they say before every race. In fact, now that I think of it, I can hear a distant “IT’S DANGEROUS!” as I contemplate opening the can.
Ingredients: Rush apparently is advertising some different stuff than other drinks which include “d-ribose, l-carnitine, choline, taurine, d-ribose, and l-carnitine”; all of these sound like the radioactive isotopes that Chernobyl shit into the atmosphere. Whatever “d-ribose” and “l-carnitine” is, they must be important because they are in here twice and I’m pretty sure that’s not a Spanish translation unless of course it’s in Spanish already, I really don’t know what any of those mean. Oddly enough, Rush holds all of this together with a pretty little blue pop top. Is this becoming a fad?
Smell: Rush smells exactly like the berry blue flavor of Jell-o. Bill Cosby would be proud.
Taste: It has the taste of that blue Jell-o for just a second, and then it switches over to the intense sour flavor of pineapples and nectarines minus the actual flavor and with about twice the sour of course. The can tells me that this should be “exciting my senses” but right now it’s furiously kicking them in the testicles and yes my senses have testicles. It’s becoming safe to assume anything toting a colored can opener top is going to be incredibly sour.
Energy Received: As I type this it’s leaving the aftertaste of Cracker Jack in my mouth. I suddenly am energized with the motivation to go out and buy a delicious popcorn and peanut snack.
Appearance: Rip It looks like it’s the bastard child of an orgy of surf shops and 13 year olds with Photoshop. Rip It has a minimalist approach to its design and I don’t know if that’s intentional or they just hired someone with no design talent whatsoever. If anything, with a name like “Rip It” you’d think they would have a more in your face design.
Ingredients: Rip It is apparently “A’tomic Pom” – not sure why there’s a random apostrophe in the word “atomic”, but I am fairly certain it’s all in the name of looking cool. Using all of about 38 seconds of logical thought I am assuming “Pom” is short for pomegranate which is some bizarre fruit. I saw an episode of Good Eats about the pomegranate and all I learned was basically that a pomegranate comes from outer space and is a giant foam ball full of red water balloons. Speaking of red, maybe it’s time I point out the nice little red pop top. God damn it.
Smell: Rip It has no real noticeable smell unless you physically try to shove your nose as far down into the can as possible. Five minutes and a few aluminum cuts later I can safely conclude that Rip It smells like grape jelly beans.
Taste: There certainly are no traces of foam or balloons which means that Alton Brown lied to me. To be honest I’ve never eaten a pomegranate (or seen one for that matter) so I can’t tell you if this is accurate or not. What I will say however is that this just tastes like any kind of generic fruit juice that you can buy at Wal-Mart. It’s not bad, but then again it’s not the greatest thing ever. Compared to some of the other disgusting shit in previous articles it’s safe to say that this installment has been the least unpleasant so far.
Energy Received: I have the sudden urge to watch The X-Files while playing E.T. on the Atari 2600 at the same time.
Among the ranks of nasty fetid mixtures such as Clamato and Von Dutch I suppose there really are some drinks that won’t put you in the hospital for a few days. Aside from some bizarre flavor choices (or lack thereof) and aftertastes everything shown in this article is less painful to consume than everything from the original three Energizing Energy Drinks pieces. I’m not about to suggest that you go out and buy these by the case because if anything I’d think ingesting that must artificial pineapple flavoring would kill a horse.
Sometime in the past few weeks, months, years, or however long it’s been since I’ve looked in that general direction a new restaurant popped up on the fringe of Corpus Christi, Texas. It’s called Taco Bueno, which is Spanish for “Good Taco” or literally “Decent Food, No Diarrhea”. As I entered the restaurant I was expecting to see a black male with dreadlocks behind the register informing me that I had just walked into an establishment famous for the “Good Taco” followed by a request for me to place my order. I was disappointed to find that there was no such cashier and instead just a college student who seemed relatively normal.
Ever since McDonald’s coined the term “Super Size” everyone else has had to follow suit; Burger King is using “King Size”, Wendy’s is using “Biggie Size”, and Dairy Queen is now offering “Would you like us to top that with eight pounds of overpriced ice cream Size”. Needless to say, Taco Bueno has jumped on this bandwagon with their creatively named “Bueno Size”. Everything appears to be just fucking wonderful at Taco Bueno except for one thing: The food.
I was hungry enough to eat a small child* so I wanted something big off of the menu. I settled on the “Tamale Platter” because I am a total whore for meat-stuffed lard wrapped in corn husks. The platter was about five bucks and came with three tamales, refried beans, Mexican rice, some lettuce, and of course nacho chips. It all looked quite fantastic in the picture up on the screen, and thus far every single fast food restaurant that I have been to has at least come marginally close to serving a product that resembles the pictures on the menu. When my order arrived I seriously thought it was someone else’s, they could not have served my food any more wrongly without somehow making it look closer to how it was supposed to. My chips were all in a little paper bag that was twist tied and the lettuce was in a separate cup. On top of that, the food itself looked like it came from the bowels of the devil.
* Allow me to elaborate on this. In the sentence marked with an asterisk “eat” would be defined as “devoured”, like what snakes do to mice. Not “eat” in the sense of a sexual term. Please get away from my house Chris Hansen before I get a restraining order.
My plate of food was some kind of epic train wreck of awful on so many levels. I honestly don’t know where to start, so I’m just going to start with a random piece of food on the plate and go around.
The Tamales: The platter came with three tamales, which, in the picture, were supposed to come with some kind of meat sauce or something. They were actually much smaller on the plate and resembled deep fried Lincoln Logs that were covered in a gross watery cheese sauce. Thankfully they had absolutely no taste to them whatsoever.
The Beans: Would you be surprised if I told you that my serving of beans looked like a brown version of Epcot Center covered in shredded cheddar cheese? The best part about this scoop of beans is that they somehow managed to burn the outside of it while it was in globe form. This defies all applicable forms of science.
The Rice: I’d like to believe that I was served the last little bit of rice that they currently had under the heat lamp, because this was enough cooked rice to fit into the palm of my hand without any left over. The rice tasted like a mix between pure Ramen noodle flavoring and bitter chocolate.
The Chips: Upon walking into the establishment there was a sign that, among other things, read “Fresh Chips Made Daily”. Eating at any other Mexican restaurant would have yielded actual homemade tortilla chips, but in this case I got a crazy paper bag full of chips and no salsa to go with them. Apparently they wanted me to scrape up the cheese sauce from the tamales? I didn’t plan on not being able to crap for a month so I declined the offer. The chips themselves were all the same shape and the same size, which lead me to believe that they were indeed right out of a bag and weren’t “fresh” or “made daily” to begin with.
The Lettuce: Yeah, after ingesting the other “food” on the plate I decided to pass on the lettuce, because it was just that, lettuce. Nothing more, and nothing else, just hastily shredded grass. It looked inconspicuous enough but I’m sure everyone remembers the poison AIDS spinach from earlier this year (or was it last year). I was done getting kicked in the balls for five bucks so I just threw what was left away.
My lesson was learned. For a little more money I could have had a nice Asian food buffet, but instead I figured it would have been smart to let Mexico punch me in the throat. Again.
[Editor’s Note: Due to incomplete backups of RFSHQ’s content, this article contains media that is missing from its TwilightFoundry.com republication.]
In two previous updates I put myself through the horror that was modern-day “weight loss” food. As I mentioned earlier this “food” is disgusting and likely meant to make you not eat altogether. If this were the only thing in my pantry I’d starve to death. I’d eat my left hand before I’d eat some of this crap. Anyways, on with the show.
Going back to reality, these white cheddar chips look significantly more bland than their nacho counterparts, and less in-your-face than the Cheetos knock-offs from the last article. They almost look like they’re fuzzy from the picture on the front, which I’m hoping is just because they can’t afford a decent printer. Once again, we’re dealing with soy here so these probably aren’t even “chips” to begin with.
You know that weird taste the air has in rooms that are full of paper? Take that and add the flavor of plain Ramen noodles and you are in the same ballpark as these chips. They have roughly the texture of packing peanuts and the cheese flavor appears to be distributed very poorly as a few of them are almost sour compared to the blank ones also in the bag. Several of the chips have strange brown discolorations on them. Very nasty stuff. I guess if you were desperate for food, then maybe. Otherwise these things are pretty gross.
Looks like we have a generic wannabe of Shredded Mini Wheats, the kind of frosted descent of course. I believe this is the same size as the little freebies of cereal they give you at hotels for their complimentary breakfasts they have (unless you stay at places that start with “Econo”, in which case you’re shit out of luck). This certainly isn’t any kind of “breakfast” like it claims on the lid because I can eat about five of these things and still want more.
You’ve got to be shitting me. I think I can count on both of my hands the number of “wheats” that are in here. They closely resemble Wheat Chex, only with some kind of powdered sugar on them. They’re a bit chewy like Wheat Chex as well, but not in a nasty way. Almost tastes like Life cereal, or Wheaties or something to that extent. At first taste, the sugar on top tastes like metal or something else equally offensive but that goes away rather quickly. To be honest, these are not that bad at all! If they came packed in more than 3 pieces of cereal a whack, I’d eat ’em for breakfast. *eats a handful*
I don’t know a whole lot about shakes and malts but last time I checked I believe shakes are made with milk or some other dairy product. Apparently in the Nutrisystem Nourish diet milk is the spawn of Satan unless of course it’s the Mini Wheats, because in that case milk is allowed. Come on people, this isn’t the Great Depression, we don’t need to eat our cereal with water anymore. However, in this case you need water to make this, eight ounces in fact so pictured next to the packet is eight ounces of water in a convenient bottle.
I carefully opened the bag of shake mix and it smelled pleasantly like cake mix. Smelled great, in other words. I didn’t realize how much power was in here, and upon dumping it into the bottle, there was very little room for it to be shaken up and dissolved. Look at the picture above, that entire empty space in the bottle was full of shake mix.
This is the monstrosity that was spawned from the nice smelling cake mix stuff. I took this picture with an exposed light bulb behind it to show you that this concoction is not see through by any means. It’s solid brown murk. Tilting the bottle around shows that it’s thick and chunky, like there wasn’t enough water to dissolve all of the powder. I took the cap off of the bottle expecting to be assaulted with a horrible smell. Instead, it still smells like chocolate cake. The fact remains that it’s still thick and looks like some kind of sludge.
Upon taking a drink I made the horrible discovery that all of the unseen and undissolved powder floated to the surface and gave the drink a glazed-over kind of look. It wasn’t so much the taste that got to me; because it tasted like cake mix and pudding… it was the texture. It felt like someone had spit into my mouth; it was a mix of liquid and partial solids. I’m not sure if this is a sign of it trying to keep the creamy texture of a shake or not, but chocolate flavored water would have been a much better investment than trying to make a shake. This is disgusting.
Rating: 1/10 (One point for smelling nice.)
That’s all the time we have for Nutrisystem on RFSHQ, I hope you had a great time laughing at my shortcomings… and if you’d like some more Nutrisystem here’s a cool new bonus feature to the article:
Click here to see the disposal of the chocolate murk.
[Editor’s Note: Due to incomplete backups of RFSHQ’s content, this article contains media that is missing from its TwilightFoundry.com republication.]
Last time on RFSHQ, I sampled three products from the Nutrisystem “Nourish” menu of diet food. I really don’t know why they call their system “nourish” when all it really does is metaphorically kick your stomach in the balls. Either way in the name of comedy the show must go on, and today I will be consuming, or trying to consume, three more products.
I’ve seen the commercials before: “OH MY GOD CHOCOLATE WHAT KIND OF DIET IS THIS WOW NUTRISYSTEM MUST RULE I MEAN CHOCOLATE HOLY SHIT.” I’m very skeptical right now, since the last three things I have eaten have turned out to be absolutely horrible. On the outside this looks like a pretty cheap Snickers knock off and there’s no crazy guy with a guitar singing me a song about happy caramel and prancing nougats which is not helping my case here.
I opened the package and to my horror I see something that resembles a disgusting wet turd. I’m guessing it’s just because it may have gotten a little melted sitting next to the computer, and even if it’s not I am going to keep telling myself that. As I took a bite I quickly realized this wasn’t chocolate. This wasn’t even close to that imitation chocolate in that cheap Easter candy. This tasted like a horrible trail mix granola bar that was soggy and loaded with raisins. Unfortunately there aren’t any raisins in this bar.
In quite possibly the worst example of alliteration ever, this packaging stands out from the rest of Nutrisystem’s crap. This bag is very much an IN YOUR FACE marketing technique, which leads me to believe this was packaged in the 1990’s. I like how the bag says “Serving Suggestion”, like someone is really going to serve these cheese puffs by throwing them all over the floor.
I popped one of the curls into my mouth, and the taste was manageable. They tasted like the cheapest store-brand Cheetos that have ever been made, but they were not disgusting. However, a few seconds into eating some I began to “taste the smell” of old library books. I’m talking like, early 20th century encyclopedias here. Really old books, you know that smell they have. I tried ignoring it and ate some more cheese curls but the weird aroma of decomposing books put me off.
I have already experienced these people’s idea of “pretzels” before, and I am not about to mindlessly believe that these are somehow real pretzels. Looking at the bag they look delicious. They don’t look like pretzels though. They look like breadsticks covered in cinnamon, which prompted me to rip the bag apart in a fury to get to the sugary goodness like some crack fiend.
I shouldn’t have opened the bag like that. A smell similar to a Pizza Hut exploding filled the computer area of my room. It smelled like pure garlic and salt, like if Super Mario himself farted in my face. It was enough to kill any vampire within 50 miles of my house. I almost refused to eat this but I forced myself to sample some in the hopes that it was all an elaborate joke. The taste was worse than the smell. They tasted like really old pizza that was room temperature, and crunchy. I’d seriously go back and eat the Melba toast. These sucked.
And so ends another installment in the Nutrisystem saga. I guess it goes to show you not everything they make is disgusting, but that’s like saying that not everything you get out of a garbage dump is trash.