Aaah, the smell of vanilla from this box of Frosted Mini-Wheats Vanilla Creme, it brought back such wonderful memories.

The pleasant memory of my mother baking chocolate chip cookies on a warm, breezy Spring day. The breeze would circulate the delicious aroma of the baking cookies throughout the house. That smell would guide me from my bedroom to the kitchen, where I waited, armed with a chilled glass of milk, to devour the freshly-baked goods.

Now I’m not a fan of regular Frosted Mini-Wheats because the “wheats” part of the name makes it sound too healthy. I’m not too fond of many healthy cereals, because they just don’t taste very good.

Although with this cereal, the vanilla aroma made me think it might turn out pretty good. I quickly poured myself a bowl and added some skim milk. I took another whiff of the cereal and it reminded me of another memory.

It reminded me of a time when I made sweet, sweet love with a lover in a bath surrounded by dozens of vanilla-scented candles. The illumination from the candles reflected off of the water and our wet skin. My lover and I caressed each other, making our hearts beat as one.

We laughed as our lovemaking caused violent waves in the bath, splashing several of the candles and extinguishing them. Although the heat from those candles were no longer there, my lover and I did not notice, for we made our own heat.

Now I don’t know if that flashback took too long, but when I took that first bite of the cereal all my hopes and dreams for it quickly went out the door, like the mailman when he gets caught sleeping with someone else’s wife.

First off, the cereal was damn soggy. It’s like each Frosted Mini-Wheat was a milk sponge. Also, the wonderful vanilla aroma didn’t become a wonderful vanilla taste. If it weren’t for the frosting, this cereal wouldn’t have a redeeming quality.

Also, to add injury to insult, my jaw began to get tired from chewing on these “milk sponges.”

After I finished the bowl, I opened the box and pulled out a piece of cereal. I looked at it and wondered why something that smells so good, doesn’t taste so good. I took another whiff of the vanilla aroma and I was again reminded of another memory.

This memory involved a lover lying face down on her bed, which was covered with petals of red roses. I poured warm vanilla-scented oil on her naked back and rubbed it all over, which, along with the moonlight coming in from the window, created an elegant shine.

My hands firmly massaged her tense muscles, attempting to massage her troubles away. She moaned erotically as I pushed my thumbs up her spine. My soft lips followed my thumbs with light kisses on her back, which caused her to moan much louder.

After that flashback, I popped the cereal in my mouth. When I started chewing, I instantly realized what was wrong with the Frosted Mini-Wheats Vanilla Cream. Milk does not do the Frosted Mini-Wheats Vanilla Creme good. Without the milk, they’re damn good.

I think I just found a new way of getting some fiber in my diet.

Before closing the box, I took one last whiff of the cereal and another memory popped into my head.

This time it reminded me of the intoxicating vanilla perfume worn by a stunning woman named Kristi, who was an expert dancer. Her flexibility and strength were her greatest assets as she danced around a pole.

I told my friend, who brought me there, that Kristi smelled astounding. He replied, “Yeah, I love the Scent of a Stripper,” as he put a five dollar bill in the crotch of Kristi’s thong.

Oh wait, now that I think about it, this memory was actually a combination of a dream and an episode of HBO’s G-String Divas.

Item: Frosted Mini-Wheats Vanilla Creme
Purchase Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Tastes great when eaten straight out of box. Excellent source of fiber. Frosting. Wonderful memories with vanilla.
Cons: Gets soggy quick. Doesn’t taste good when milk is added. Chewing for a long period of time may make your jaw hurt.

(Editor’s Note #1: It’s the final day of Reader Request Week here at the Impulsive Buy and today’s review comes from the same person who requested the first review this week, lightpinksheep. This time we will be reviewing the scary, yet intriguing Funyuns With Wasabi.

Don’t know what wasabi is? Well read on.)

(Editor’s Note #2: The following review features stunts performed either by professionals or a not-so-bright quasi-product review blog editor. Accordingly, the Impulsive Buy must insist that no one attempt to recreate or re-enact any stunt or activity performed in this review.)

Otherwise known as Japanese horseradish, wasabi is a very spicy condiment, sort of like mustard, except with wasabi, you may experience pain comparable to having your nipples twisted with metal clamps.

No wait, that actually feels kind of good.

Wasabi is so spicy that it has been known to make grown men cry. It’s green in color and is usually eaten with sushi.

To prepare for this review of Funyuns With Wasabi, I decided that I needed to remember what wasabi tastes like, because the only time I ever tried it was for a dare in college, which involved me consuming a pea-sized dollop of wasabi.

Well the experience was so traumatic, that I don’t remember what wasabi tastes like. All I remember from that is a blur of constant glasses of water and laughter directed towards me. Oh, and the dollar I earned for doing it.

The dollar was sooo not worth it.

As I said before, wasabi has been known to make grown men cry. I’m a total wuss, so imagine how much of a little crybaby I became when I put a dime-sized dollop of wasabi into my mouth to try and jolt my memory of what it tastes like.

Let me tell you, it did jolt.

After swearing like a sailor, drinking several glasses of water and milk, and wiping the tears away from my eyes, my mouth slowly returned to normal. The taste and burning sensations of wasabi are now tattooed on my brain permanently.

Now that I remembered what wasabi tastes like, I could now move forward and try these new Funyuns With Wasabi.

After I opened the bag, I could instantly smell a hint of wasabi coming from it. I gagged a little bit, but composed myself and began chomping them down.

I could definitely taste the wasabi. It’s not even close to being as strong as eating wasabi straight, but I could feel a slight spicy burn from them. I got through about one-sixth of the bag and then I had to stop. I couldn’t eat anymore, so I them gave them to my friend, who ate the rest of the bag.

He thought they were pretty good.

I guess mathematically someone in the world had to.

Item: Funyuns With Wasabi
Purchase Price: $1.29
Rating: 2.5 out of 5
Pros: Unusual flavor. Waaay better than eating just wasabi. Eating wasabi straight makes for a wonderful dare or prank. My friend likes them.
Cons: The wasabi flavor is definitely not for everyone. Slight spicy burn. Leave eating straight wasabi to professionals and not-so-bright quasi-product review blog editors.

(Editor’s Note: It’s Day Four of Reader Request Week here at the Impulsive Buy and today’s review request come from Impulsive Buy stalker, akiko. She called me to find out if the Impulsive Buy could review the new Full Throttle energy drink. I said sure. Then I asked her, how she got my phone number and she said, “I’m a stalker, it’s what I do.” Enjoy.)

Today at the Impulsive Buy, we are going to tell you the steps to make your own energy drink.

Step One: You need a name for it. Something that signifies power and energy, like the names Red Bull, Monster, and Adrenaline do for their respective energy drinks. Maybe something like “Kick Ass,” “Aggro,” or “Steroids in a Can.”

Also, avoid names that sound like they would make a good name for a cologne.

Step Two: Sell it in a can that is smaller than normal or larger than normal. Most sodas come in a 12-ounce can, but energy drinks come in either a slightly larger 16-ounce can or a slightly smaller 8.4-ounce can. Preferably, sell it in an 8.4-ounce can and charge the same amount as your competitors’ 16-ounce can. If Red Bull can do that, why can’t you.

Also, the can should be predominantly black, because black is the new black.

Step Three: Put a cool graphic on your can. Preferably something that would look good as a tattoo. Hopefully, someone would be stupid enough, or drunk/high enough, to actually get a tattoo of your cool graphic. This way you’ll get free advertising from them for life, or until they decide to get rid of it via laser removal.

Step Four: The energy drink must have items you’ll find in a Chinese herb shop, like guarana and ginseng. Do not add items from Jamaican herb shop.

Step Five: Say, “Screw you, Dr. Atkins!” and add lots of carbohydrates and sugar.

Step Six: Make sure your energy drink is greenish, because almost every energy drink comes in some shade of green. No one knows why it’s like this, but I believe it has something to do with the Incredible Hulk.

Step Seven: Add as much caffeine as the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) will legally allow you. Enough to keep a college student awake while cramming for an exam, but not enough to make you as anxious as a crack whore.

Hopefully, if you follow these seven steps, you’ll end up with an energy drink that will be drowned out by the dozens of other energy drinks out in the market today.

This was the case with the Full Throttle energy drink, which was created by the same folks who’ve given us such great products as Coke, Vanilla Coke, Diet Coke, and other sodas with the word “Coke” in it.

If it weren’t for the Full Throttle advertising sticker on one of the doors of the convenience store’s refrigerated case, I wouldn’t have noticed them in between all the other energy drinks with their predominantly black cans and graphics that would make good tattoos.

After trying Full Throttle, I have to say there’s hardly any taste difference between it and any of the other energy drinks I’ve tasted. They all basically have almost the same citrus flavor.

Well, at least it came in a larger than normal can, instead of a smaller than normal can.

Item: Full Throttle
Purchase Price: $1.99
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
Pros: Vitamin B6. Larger than normal can. Caffeine. Graphic on can would make an awesome tattoo, minus the “Energy Drink” part.
Cons: Typical energy drink. Tastes very similar to other energy drinks.

(Editor’s Note: It’s Day Three of Reader Request Week here at the Impulsive Buy and today’s review request comes from Melanie, who asked for a Cookies & Twix candy bar review.

All I have to say to Melanie is, “Ask and you shall receive, unless you ask me to bail you out of jail. In that situation, your ass is on its own.” Enjoy the review.)

One of the reasons why I decided to review the Cookies & Twix candy bar was because Melanie claimed they’re almost as good as sex.

I didn’t quite believe her, so I decided to look deeper into it by reaching into my limited sexual history.

Wait, do blow-up dolls and shady massage parlors count?

I’ll just add them anyway.

After I scanned my limited sexual history, I realized that Melanie was wrong.

These Cookies & Twix candy bars are very good, so good, in fact, I think they’re better than first-time sex.

With first-time sex, there’s a lot of fumbling, not knowing where to put things, putting the condom on the wrong way, a lot of questions being asked, like “Is it in?”, “Does it feel good?” or “Does it hurt?” and premature ejaculation.

I gotta admit, I would rather have a Cookies & Twix candy bar, than experience first-time sex all over again. So I believe that sometimes these Cookies & Twix candy bars are indeed better than sex.

Hey, she didn’t say what kind of sex?

Anyway, now that we have that settled, I really do like these Cookies and Twix candy bars, but I have a problem with them. They’re hardly different than the delicious regular Twix?

They both have the same parts (a cookie, caramel, and chocolate), except put together differently.

Basically, a Cookies & Twix candy bar is a regular Twix turned inside out. Instead of having a cookie surrounded by caramel and chocolate, a Cookies & Twix candy bar is caramel and chocolate surrounded by a cookie.

I believe the Cookie & Twix candy bar is actually the deformed and rejected Twix, that have formed due to some kind of inbreeding. Of course, this is just a hypothesis, but the clues point to inbreeding.

Nevertheless, I love these deformed Twix, just as much as regular Twix.

I’ve got room in my stomach for both of them.

Item: Cookies & Twix
Purchase Price: 45 cents
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Very good. If you like Twix, you’ll like these. Showing love to the Deformed Twix.
Cons: Looks kind of small. This is what you get when Twix inbreed.

(Editor’s Note #1: It’s Day Two of Reader Request Week here at the Impulsive Buy. Today, we will be reviewing Jolly Time Mallow Magic microwave popcorn, which was requested by kirkkitsch at My So-Called Strife.

Enjoy.)

(Editor’s Note #2: The winners for this month’s prize drawing have been selected. See sidebar to find out who won.)

I’m skeptical of things that claim to be “magical.”

For example, Magic Markers. I haven’t found anything “magical” about them, except when I sniff them for too long, which causes me to “magically” prance around naked on all fours, pretending to be a pretty, pretty little pony.

Also, those Magic: The Gathering playing cards, they “magically” give my friend’s little cousins the ability to totally kick my ass at something.

Finally, there’s David Blaine, who claims to be a “magician,” but all the things he does isn’t really magic, like stand on a flagpole for 35 hours, or spend seven days underwater in a see-through coffin, or live in a plastic box suspended over a river for 44 days, or stand at a truck-stop urinal and pee for 3 hours.

So I wasn’t expecting much from the Jolly Time Mallow Magic microwave popcorn.

The concept of Mallow Magic is much like the Orville Redenbacher’s Cinnabon Popcorn I reviewed earlier this month. It’s microwave popcorn with a sweet creamy topping.

Also, like the Cinnabon Popcorn, each box of Mallow Magic comes with two bags of unpopped popcorn and two pouches of creamy marshmallow topping.

I liked the sweet Cinnabon Popcorn, so I was looking forward to trying the sweet marshmallowy taste of the Mallow Magic Popcorn. So I put the flat bag of popcorn into the microwave and set the time for 2 minutes and 30 seconds.

I carefully watched the flat bag of popcorn in the microwave. Then suddenly, I heard a pop. Then another. Then another. Then another. I looked at the bag of popcorn and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Oh my God! The bag…It’s growing in the microwave!” I yelled.

“It’s…It’s….MAGICAL!”

“I believe!!! I believe!!!”

Yeah, whatever.

After I took the bag out of the microwave, I instantly noticed that it was slightly smaller than all other microwave popcorn bags I’ve seen. I looked at the Cinnabon Popcorn box and the Mallow Magic box, and it turned out that the Mallow Magic bag had about one-fifth less popcorn than the Cinnabon Popcorn bag.

So, of course, this meant less popcorn.

After I added the creamy marshmallow topping, I dug into what turned out to be a nice sweet treat, that I think tasted better than the Cinnabon Popcorn.

However, they were such a nice sweet treat, that I ate an entire bag in one sitting, while trying to NOT watch American Idol.

Item: Jolly Time Mallow Magic
Purchase Price: $2.00 (on sale)
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: A nice sweet treat. Like kettle corn, except a lot more messy. Popcorn has fiber.
Cons: Bags are smaller than most popcorn bags. Not magical, just like David Blaine.

(Editor’s Note: It’s Request Week here at the Impulsive Buy. Over the past month or so, several readers have asked us to review certain products. Being the friendly quasi-product review blog that we are, we were happy to oblige. So this week we will be reviewing products that you, our readers, have suggested.

To start off Request Week, we will be reviewing a new mint called AquaDrops, which was suggested by poor graduate student lightpinksheep. Enjoy.)

In honor of the duet by Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez of the Spanish-language song “Escapemonos” they performed at the Grammy Awards, I’ve decided to do a very small part of this review in Spanish, which I have no experience with, except for what I’ve learned by reading the menu at Taco Bell and watching Sesame Street as a child.

Wait, now that I think about it, all I remember from the Taco Bell menu are taco, burrito, and Chalupa. Actually, I don’t think “Chalupa” is a real word. Also, the only Spanish lessons I can remember from Sesame Street are how to say open (abierto) and closed (cerrado) and how to count to ten (uno, dos, tres…um…).

Actually, I only remember how to count to three because U2 lead singer, Bono, has messed me up, thanks to the song “Vertigo.” At the beginning of the song, he count “uno, dos, tres” and then he jumps to thirteen or something. Ever since hearing that song, I can’t remember how to say numbers in Spanish after three.

Damn you, Bono!

Donde esta el aqua?

Holy crap! Where the hell did that come from?

Wait, that does say “Where is the water?” in Spanish, right?

Wow, I guess listening to Menudo records, not only puts me to sleep, I also apparently can learn some Spanish through osmosis.

Anyway, the question ”Donde esta el aqua?” was directed towards these new AquaDrops Hydrating “Mints.”

Oh, the “Mints” are in quotations marks because there’s not much of a minty thing going on with these. The one I bought was melon-flavored and basically that’s all you really taste.

It’s definitely not like one of those powerful sinus-clearing mints, like Altoids. Although, after I sucked on an AquaDrop for awhile, there was a little tingling sensation in my mouth, which I assumed was the minty part. If it wasn’t, I may need to see a doctor.

Despite being called AquaDrops, I didn’t notice a drop of aqua in them. I even smashed one with a hammer, but there wasn’t any liquid at all.

Anyway, these melon-flavored AquaDrops were pretty good, even though they were sugar-free and had no aqua in them.

OH, WAIT! I feel some liquid!

Oh, never mind. It’s just my saliva.

My bad.

Item: Sugar Free Melon AquaDrops
Purchase Price: 99 cents
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Melon-flavor is pretty good. Like eating melon candy. Sugar free. Thank goodness my English isn’t as bad as my Spanish.
Cons: Not a drop of aqua. Not really minty. Packaging says excessive consumption may have a laxative effect. Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez duet.

(Editor’s Note #1: RSS and Atom feeds are working again…I think/hope)

Anyway, I’ve written a review for her blog, which is almost the exact same review as the one below. However, the review on her blog is, um, how can I put it? Rated PG. The review below is the usual PG-13 or TV14, for you TV ratings geeks. So after you read the PG-13/TV14 review below, go read the PG version at Golly Blog Howdy.)

There’s a container on my shelf that I specifically use for loose change and the occasional button. Recently, that container became full and I needed to figure out a way to get rid of the loose change.

I could’ve taken them to a bank and have the teller who helped me dream of shoving an adding machine down my throat. Or I could’ve given them to the panhandlers that hang outside of the convenience store down the street and watch them drown out their problems with alcohol. Or I could’ve stuck them in between my couch’s cushions, so that I can finally say I found loose change in between a couch’s cushions.

I eventually decided to cash them in using a Coinstar machine, which can count my coins for me. Sorry, drunk-ass panhandlers.

First, I had to find a Coinstar machine, which I did by visiting their website. There, I just inputted my zip code and the site told me where the nearest Coinstar machine was.

The nearest machine was at the locally-owned grocery store down the street that I hardly step into because their prices are slightly more expensive than the national grocery store chain I usually shop at.

I grabbed my container of coins and walked to the store. Unfortunately, this was a bad idea, because I had to pass the convenience store, and guess who were hanging out there. Yes, the panhandlers.

Now, when they’ve ask me for loose change in the past, I’ve told them that I didn’t have any. This time, I couldn’t say that with ten pounds of loose change in a container that was impossible to hide.

I really hoped they were too drunk to notice the Fort Knox of loose change I held in my hands. Fortunately, they were.

When I got to the store, there already was a guy unloading a small cooler of pennies into the Coinstar machine. I waited for 15 minutes as he dump over 5000 pennies into the machine.

After waiting and being amazed that 5000 pennies could fit into a small cooler, I began to dump my coins into the machine, which accepts pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half-dollar coins, and dollar coins.

One cool thing I read about the Coinstar machine is that it can detect if you’ve accidently slipped in buttons, Japanese Yen, Canadian coins, other foreign coins, or those stupid penny souvenirs that are worth less than a penny. If you happen to stick in non-American money or crappy penny souvenirs, it will drop it into the slot labeled “Coin Return,” which seems kind of ironic to be called that.

When the machine was done counting my coins, it spit out a receipt that showed me how much money I put into it. My gross total was $50.06, but the machine subtracted an 8.9 percent processing fee. So my net total was $45.60.

After I got my receipt, I headed to the cashier with the shortest line to cash-in the receipt. For me, the shortest line was the four-items-or-less line, which also had the prettiest cashier. When I got to the pretty cashier, I handed her my receipt and she opened her register to get the money.

While counting the money, she asked me, “What are you going to with the money?”

Internally, I said, “Well, how about you and I spend it on dinner at a nice restaurant?”

Externally, I said, “Uh, I dunno,” and then walked away.

(I’m such a pussy.)

As I walked out of the store, I began asking myself questions to figure out how to spend the money.

“How many products can I review with this money?”

“Could I really feed an entire village in Ethiopia for just 25 cents a day?”

“Could I use an iPod Shuffle?”

“How many tricks can I get with this scratch?”

I eventually decided to use the money to help with the purchase of an iPod Shuffle.

Thanks, Coinstar.

Item: Coinstar
Purchase Price: FREE to use (8.9 percent fee for every dollar of coins counted)
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Easy to use. Convenient. No need to roll coins. Takes all types of coins, except those stupid penny souvenirs. Can turn your loose change into an iPod Shuffle.
Cons: Noisy. Drunk panhandlers. I am a pussy.