100 Days of Breakfast Cereal ~~~ We Won't Eat It; We Hate Everything.

A different breakfast cereal every weekday for 100 days. Occasional philosophic commentary of no inherent value whatsoever.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Bowl 22

Kellogg's Apple Jacks with Eye-Poppin' Marshmallows

This morning’s bowl of cereal was not relaxing.

By the dawn’s early light, or perhaps a moment or two before, I poured myself a bowl of Kellogg’s Apple Jacks. Hunched over an “easy, breezy” NYT crossword puzzle (liars), I embarked on the Sunday morning ritual of jumpstarting my system with caffeine, sugar, and enough red dye #40 to replicate the energy required to get through my day (roughly equivalent to that of an army of ADHD toddlers at a Toys'R Us drum set sale).

Yet, the moment my bowl was full and the box was back on the table, uneasiness set in. Icy fingers of homeland insecurity reiki’d down my spine, taunting my solar plexus and teasing my scalp with unorthodox shiatsu-like sensations.

Then, I saw them. Two gelatinous orbs, watching me. Or perhaps something slightly to the right of me, like a rabid tarantula or someone who hates America.

“Who’s there?” I demanded, easing a lime green and hot pink polka-dotted bathrobe off my left shoulder so the icy fingers could focus on a sore deltoid muscle.

“Damn you, come forth!” I screamed, “Reveal your identity, vile tormenter!”

Glancing down at the table for a weapon, I saw that my Apple Jacks had come alive with seemingly dozens of tiny orbs, all with menacing green centers.

“Don't think I’m scared of a few little eyeballs!” I roared, “Watch what I can do, retinal scum!”

Fearlessly, I tossed a handful of eyeballs in my mouth.

The morsels stuck on my front teeth, sealing them shut and threatening to cut off my air supply. I hadn't felt so threatened since downloads of "I'm All Out of Love" were temporarily unavailable at iTunes!

“Uccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed, praying my jaws open, “These aren’t the traditionally superfluous sugary marshmallow bits that cereal is supposed to have . . . these are . . . neither sweet, nor tangy, nor even unimaginatively bland. . . in fact, I'd say they were tasteless, if that weren't blatant literary ambiguity . . . so I will just have to declare these as having NO flavor WHATSOEVER, except perhaps a light infusion of 'Eau de Cereal Box.' You fiends!!!”

Somewhere in Battle Creek, a pair of Sanrio Chococat cafe curtains fluttered in a breeze of sinister portent.

Glancing over to my four-year-old daughter’s placemat, I saw all that remained of her was a long, crooked line of uneaten marshmallow eyeballs.

It was then The Truth charged in, splashing bleach on the soiled Brown Horse Haunches of Consumer Deception. A product with marshmallow bits so terrible that a preschooler eats the ACTUAL CEREAL first, is nothing for amateur cereal consumers to fool around with. I hastily put on latex gloves, took photos of the crime scene, and double-bagged the evidence for disposal at the hazardous waste depot.

WARNING: Deadly. Evil. Product.

Rating: Five Tony the Tiger Turds. Copious amounts of hard, flavorless eyeballs destroy any enjoyment out of eating this otherwise rather tasty cereal. You could pick them out, but with the labor involved, even at 1.98 a box, it’s cheaper to buy regular Apple Jacks.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Bowl 21

Christmas Cap'n Crunch L-R, top to bottom:

umm, umm . . . stocking cap (yes, stocking cap, stocking cap), snowman with gaping orifice, satisfactory tree, disabled red star

spinach manicotti, dad trying on mum's lingerie, death comet hurtling toward Earth, doggy-do with bicycle track, and ah . . . um . . . :: Pastilla fans self :: . . . another umm, umm, stocking cap becoming interested in winter sports.

Rating: 2 Tony The Tiger Turds. Despite the word "Christmas" on the box, there were no angels, shepherds, camels, babies, WMD's or televangelist shapes. . . what a slap in the face for decency and moral standards!

Friday, September 22, 2006

Bowl 20

Reese's Puffs cereal

The choice is yours: a bowl of peanut butter cups, or a bowl of this cereal.

I suspect the fat content is similar.

Rating: 0 Tony the Tiger Turds. After three bowls each, the sweet-toothed members of the family were fighting over who got the last one. Fragrant, rich, delicious, unhealthy. Will spike blood sugar dramatically; make sure you pack sugar packets with you before you leave home. By about 10:00 you'll be LBS-ing for sure.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Bowl 19

These days I mostly split my time between overt selflessness, generosity, kindness, taking care of small children and injured animals, low-profile charity work and a myriad of other bizarre activities too numerous to mention, among them hanging out in cereal aisles.

Though no one has ever asked me, I'm sure some could wonder: how can an individual maintain this seemingly indefatigable state of elevated moral superiority?

The answer: I take time every day for a few precious moments alone with my cereal. Centering myself every morning with a small candle, soft music, and a comforting bowl of questionable nutrition and ingredients, keeps me grounded and provides me with a spiritual bridge for The Grand Abyss of Life.

And this week it is all chocolatey! . . .(which, despite MS Words advice to the contrary, is a real word, spelled with an "e" as you can plainly see for yourself on the box of choice today):

Hugging the box fervently to my chest, I felt doubly blessed to find this cereal at the Dollar Store. Not only was Cap'n Crunch's glazed-eyed look of naval fortitude and zeal on the box, but Superman was there too . . . flying intently in my direction, no doubt to avert any imminent Lois Lane-esque disaster which could befall me.

Feeling comforted, I poured the first bowl today. The puffs were delightfully round and fragrant, although somewhat pallid and dry-looking. They were also unattractively pitted with holes.

However, Cap'n Crunch's cheerful face made up for any cosmetic flaws by offering me a spoonful from his own bowl(which of course was a richer, larger, more appetizing-looking version of the actual chocolatey peanut butter crunch cereal).

I glanced over at Superman to see what he thought, then leapt back from the table in horror. How could I have missed it before? Superman was flying straight towards the Cap'n, with a maniacal gleam in his eye that brought another similar image to mind:

(Some of you may recognize this as an authentic copy of the "9/11 tourist guy" photo, verified by MAILER DAEMON of my inbox as completely valid.)

What is it about this cereal that makes Superman ready to kill for it?

All I can guess is that while Quaker (owned by PepsiCo) claims that Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Peanut Putter Crunch is a “Smart Spot TM” choice because it has 26% less sugar than regular Cap’n Crunch, Superman’s imminent attack on the Cap’n suggests an innate struggle between good and evil occurring behind the scenes. Since Superman is universally associated with Truth, Justice and the American Way, one can only assume that removing sugar and fat from cereals is indecent, immoral, and unpatriotic. Cap’n Cook’s new cereal could very well be representative of Deceit, Unfairness, and the Way of the Rest of the World.

Despite these reservations, I poured out a bowl and poured on the skim milk as McCarthyistically as possible. The cereal had a light, pleasing, non-cloying taste, definitely a faithful cereal reproduction of its two basic ingredients: chocolate and peanut butter. With 2.5 g of fat, it had enough body to taste authentic without being too much so. In other words, it wasn't like eating through a bowl of peanut butter cups . . . not that I have anything against anyone who might enjoy such a breakfast. Tolerance is so essential.

I must say I tolerated this "Smart Spot TM" cereal quite enthusiastically.

M'lord, it's easier to be tolerant when you like something.

Rating: 0 Tony the Tiger Turds. This cereal was really quite tasty, and an excellent deal at $1 for a 13.1 oz box.

Tomorrow: Chocolate Peanut Butter Captain Crunch meets Reese's Puffs (below). 13 g of sugar and 4.5 g of fat! I doubt we'll be seeing Superman on that box.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I am Part of the World and the World is Cuckoo (Bowl/Plate 18)

The loss of Junk Food Lunch Box hit me hard last week . . .

Ostensibly an innocent post on Vegan Lunch Box led to a flurry of activity on the site parody, much of it unpleasant hate mail from readers who did not understand satire.

:: plants flag in mound of junk food ::


Sitting down in front of my computer, prepared to blog a week of chocolate cereals in a spirit of pure vengeance and spite, a small box of Cocoa Puffs called to me from my brain's right hemisphere.

"I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!" a lunatic bird cried, relentless in his pursuit of my long term memory banks.

"Why must you still terrorize me?" I cried inwardly, (but from the way the garage door blew out into the driveway, it may have been more outward than I thought), "isn't it enough that you emblazoned upon my subconscious the paradigm that everything I rightfully have is at risk of being snatched away by someone mentally unstable and inferior? Can't you see that it is because of you I lost all ambition, faced with a future of endless harassment and disappointment from the world's nutjobs? You, you wretchedly drawn half-woodpecker in prison drag, doomed me to stumble through life, anchorless and lost, always looking over my shoulder in a fog of hypersensitive, hypoglycemic paranoia, fearing love because deep down I knew it was only a matter of time before someone took it as well? You are the GOLLUM in my Personal Cereal of Mordor! Be gone!"

For a while, the voice was silenced.

So, I poured out the cereal, but a new preoccupation with my son's crappy new (private) school teacher made me lose my appetite. He is in 8th grade. His latest Social Studies test had six multiple-choice questions. One was, "________ is the study of the past." The other five were equally challenging.

I have expressed my concerns to his ::cough:: teacher, but nothing's going to sink into her psyche anytime soon. Even the comforting wafts of artifical cocoa and highly processed fructose could not sweeten my bitter suffering.

So, I took my cereal to art therapy class. My teacher says I am really getting better. Really, I am. This time last year I was shredding the paper plates. Now I create.

She urges me to eat more cereal. Nothing gets those synapses firing more vigorously than 17 g sugar in the morning! Yay!

Rating: 1 Tony the Tiger Turd. It really is the flagship of the modern, sugary, unwholesomely chemical-laden, chocolate cereal extravaganzas that we love to hate today. So, for its historical significance, (now we know what HISTORY is), it will be rated on a bell curve, on which it is the only entry.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Abandoned But Not Forgotten Blog

I've prioritized RL issues over photographing/writing about breakfast cereal for now. This hiatus will continue until further notice.

The archives are open until midnight (see left column).

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

When Lassie Falls in a Well

Just a note to say that I am up to my elbows in drowning collies this week. I hope to return July 24, if not sooner.

Rest assured, cereal is still being photographed and consumed in an inspirational and uplifting manner.