Author Archives | Margaret

Margaret - who has written 51 posts on The Impulsive Buy.


REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Peeps Donut

Written by | April 23, 2014

Topics: 3 Rating, Dunkin Donuts, Fast Food

Dunkin' Donuts Peeps Donut Peep Donut

7:30 in the morning and fresh from the dusty, diesel-packed streets of the Bowery, I swung into the Dunkin’ Donuts, dodging the heating lamps of hash browns and the baskets of 99 cent danishes. I sought neither the jelly-puffed munchkin nor the swirls in the Butter Pecan Latte. Nay, I came for one thing and one thing alone: a torus-shaped chunk of fried dough topped with an artificially colored marshmallow.

Dunkin' Donuts Peeps Donut Smooshed Peep face

Is it a chicken? A warbler? An artist’s interpretation of a Saffron Finch? Much like the Hero’s Journey to the center of the Tootsie Roll, the world may never know what the true breed the Peep “chickadee” is (then again, I’m not a very good ethnographer). What I do know is that each little plop of Dunkin’s dough is topped with one of these aviary escapees, not to mention being doused in a glaze of sugar and artificial colors, which reminds me of Fruity Pebbles, which reminds me of Childhood Joy. So it stands to conclude that this doughnut is made out of Joy, right?

Dunkin' Donuts Peeps Donut Sawdust cake

The doughnut comes out with all the vibrancy of a Lisa Frank commercial and its 21 grams of sugar gives an equally vibrant kick in the pants. As hoped for, the anticipated sugar glaze hits first, tasting of little more than the joy of refined, gritty sugary-ness with a hint of vanilla extract. It’s layered on moderately thick and there’s a little crunch as you bite into the softened glaze as it softens and dissolves into a gritty, sweet mess (the best mess there is). This fructose-laden rainbow-brick-road paves the way as you chomp towards the epicenter that is the Peep. You have the option to eat your Peep as you choose. Just remember: that special feeling that comes with chomping the head of a Peep? No one can take that away from you.

Dunkin' Donuts Peeps Donut One day, this Peep's ghost will seek vengeance on me

The speed bump in the sugary journey came as I bit into the piece of yeast dough. Dry. Pasty. Stiff. This was not Joy. “Did I come in on a bad morning?” I asked myself. “Is the fryer on the fritz? Has a ill-willed goblin from the 7th dimension taken over the Dunkin’ Donut kitchen? BAH! How do I handle ill-willed goblins? What do they have against doughnuts? And how will I be able to attain a mass-marketed piece of adequately fried dough in light of my incapacity to handle a species I’ve yet to understand?”

These questions were left unanswered as I gnawed my way to the center of the dry piece of bread, each bite bringing only more disappointment. Sure, I always hope for a sugary, dense cake, but even a slightly fresh, modestly moist cake will do. I’ve even been known to take day-old doughnuts and plop them in the microwave to give ‘em a little kick in the fluff. But this? This was overcooked, even cottony, tasting more like stale Wonder Bread. Wonder Bread tossed in sawdust. Combined with the Peep and it was like chomping a slightly stretchy piece of sugar-coated Styrofoam, the little crumbs of dried out cake spewing dried-out shrapnel every which way. Perhaps a slightly denser cake doughnut may have stood the test better? I don’t know, but I fear this one just didn’t cut it for me.

Thankfully, I had a hot chocolate at the ready because what goes better with a bird-shaped marshmallow than a frothy beverage of molten cocoa? I would suggest you consider doing the same: grab yourself a coffee, a Cookie Dough Coolata, whatever joe suits your fancy. While dry on its own, the pastry makes excellent dunking material (this is Dunkin’ after all). The beverage adds a bitter, sharp bite to the sugar onslaught while filling in the nooks of hardened dough with a little bit of moisture and caffeine. You will be happy. Your Peep will be happy. The goblins of the 7th dimension will be happy.

Dunkin' Donuts Peeps Donut Peep protects its territory

Have a sweet tooth? Or ten? Do all of them crave straight sugar laced with sugar that tastes of sugar on a dry piece of bread? If you answered yes to all of the above, the Peeps doughnut is here for you. While I admire the seasonal charm, the colors threaten to blind your sensitive eyeballs and the dry cake is just blee-blah-bloo. In the future, I’ll steer clear of this one, but again…seasonal. It’s a good idea, DD, but I spoke to the Easter bunny this weekend and he told me he’s looking for a Girl Scout Cookie doughnut to deliver next year. So how ‘bout it Dunkin’: Will you heed the bunny’s call?

(Nutrition Facts – 310 calories, 130 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 340 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 21 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Peeps Donut
Purchased Price: $1.09
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Corn syrup! Fructose! Bright colors! Slight crunch from the glaze. Poofy marshmallow. Stretchy marshmallow. Marshmallow dunked in hot chocolate. Childhood Joy.
Cons: Bright colors may result in blindness. Dry dough. Stale Wonder Bread tossed in sawdust. Still wondering: how many licks to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Goblins of the 7th dimension. Me not being a good ethnographer.

Permalink | 2 Comments

REVIEW: Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations

Written by | March 20, 2014

Topics: 5 Rating, Chips Ahoy!, Cookies

Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations

1941: a time of crisis. A time of panic. A time when there was a shortage of All Good Things (flour, butter, sugar, joy). This resulted in a dusty cookie landscape worthy of a B-grade cult horror film. Bakeries left abandoned. Milk glasses untouched. Girl Scout cookies restricted to two boxes per buyer. TWO BOXES.

This all got me thinking: what if this were to happen today? What would I do? How would I survive? Would I be forced to resort to my savage pre-historic instincts? To wrestle, all deranged and googly-eyed, elbowing my way through crowds just to have my pick between Trefoils, Samoas, and Tagalongs???

Struck by a sudden, infinite panic of cookie loss (and without a noble Girl Scout in sight), I sped to my local Target, where I promptly swiped not one but all FOUR new Chips Ahoy! flavors. Basking in my flour/sugar variety, I pulled from the stash the sole cookie that would fill the empty dinosaur in my heart. The dinosaur that craves chocolate and coffee.

Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations A Very Hungry Dinosaur

A very hungry dinosaur.

Straight from the plastic container, these cookies already promise the quelling of said hunger. A single waft from a freshly opened pack and you enter a wonderland filled with sensory bombardment. Circles! Chips! Dips and dots of chocolate-coffee stuff! Yes, I imagine the smell of these cookies could wipe away the Melancholies from my sad, sad neighbor who never cuts her grass.

But then I tried the dough.

You know that moment in Willy Wonka where Gene Wilder bites his crispy flower cup and sings a sorrowful little ditty? That’s exactly how I felt upon tasting these: the smell of everything I hoped for, now deflated, shuffled in the mix of a poof of very bland dough. It was not brown sugary. Not regular sugary. Not even artificially-sweetened, fake-sugared sugary. Nay, this dough tasted like air. Albeit, slightly soft, soft, chewy, chewy air, but air nonetheless.

Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations Chewy chocolatey hotel coffee

Thankfully, there are a few good chips scattered about. The milk chocolate bits are fudgy and milky sweet, adding little pops of hyper-sugary sweetness. Rarer were the mocha chips, which resembled more of a hyper-milked, hotel-room coffee and veered toward overpowering in their Hampton Inn coffee flavor. It was like hoping for a Furi steel blade and getting an off-brand butter knife.

So, yes, I would’ve dug a sharper coffee note and maybe even a crispier, shortbread cookie, but, at the end of the day, these piddly preferences don’t make these morsels any less easy to eat. Indeed, I could eat these on a train. On a plane. On a boat. With a billy goat.

Or as they were destined to be served.

Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations Untitled Cookie Tower #2

I call this “Untitled Cookie Tower #2.”

While somewhat “meh” on their own, these cookies delivered on their most standard promise: to be chewy, gluten-filled two-bite mocha-chipped mini cakes. I’m not quite sure why the dough demands to be so hum-drum, why there aren’t more chips or darker coffee flavors, or how a cookie inspired by a beverage qualifies it as a Ice Cream Creation, but what’s in a name? At the end of the day, my inner dinosaur is satisfied. Perhaps not frolicking in the daisies, but satisfied. That’ll do, Chips Ahoy, that’ll do.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 85 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, and less than 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Chewy Chips Ahoy! Mocha Chunk Ice Cream Creations
Purchased Price: $2.54
Size: 9.5 oz.
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Soft, soft, chewy, chewy. Tasty chocolate-y chips. Pops of coffee-caramel-ish chips. Smell cures the Melancholies. Reason to create “Untitled Cookie Tower #2.”
Cons: Overall feeling is “Meh.” Bland dough. Weak coffee flavor. The Unofficial 1941 Cookie Crisis. Sad neighbors who never cut their grass. Watching Gene Wilder crunch his coffee cup and get all hum-drum. Angry, unfed tyrannosaurus rex of the soul.

Permalink | Leave a Comment

REVIEW: Snickers Rockin’ Nut Road Bar

Written by | February 24, 2014

Topics: 8 Rating, Candy, Snickers

Snickers Rockin' Nut Road Bar

STOP! Put your hand down. Just…put it down. That’s right. I know you want the regular Snickers. It’s tempting. Chocolate shell, gooey caramel, chunky peanuts. I get it. It’s enough to turn the most depressed, calloused pick-ax-yielder into a skipping, self-expressive frolicker who makes dainty floral arrangements. The magic that is chocolate, caramel, and peanut-y goo knows no bounds.

At the same time, such magic can become slightly dulled, jaded by the soft familiarity of repetition and safety. No shame in going the safe route with a Snickers, but if you’re looking to add a little depth to your chocolate, a little vanilla to your nougat, a little metaphorical fabric softener to what may otherwise be a stiff Snickers routine, then may I present to you a source of salvation in the form of a 1.73-ounce bar.

Snickers Rockin' Nut Road Bar Gooey fluffy goo yum

Watch as it draws you in like a hungry piñata craving candy for its belly.

Immediately upon opening the wrapper, one can tell this is the stuff of alchemy, the product of some wizard and his highly skilled protégé. Just look at that semisweet chocolate. That gooey caramel. Heck, if you crunch at just the right angle, you can hear the magical wizard dust talking to you, which, now that I think on it, brings up an abundance of questions: When did wizard dust gain the evolutionary skills to perform linguistic communication? And how did said talking dust particles survive being compressed into a bar? Are they indestructible? Does this mean they will outlast the human species?? How can I leave behind a positive legacy before I rot and decay and get replaced by magical wizard dust??!

After getting all anxious about my mortality, I realize I never would’ve contemplated looking for more ways to act positively today had it not been for eating this bar, so thank you, Snickers, for sponsoring this brief philosophical tangent.

Snickers Rockin' Nut Road Bar Yum yum yum

The Snickers’ dashing good looks graciously transfer themselves over to the flavor. The crispy, semisweet chocolate shell holds a sweet, gritty melt with a hint of coffee, making for an experience that reminds me of Dove Dark Chocolate squares without the inspirational quotes. The original malt nougat has been replaced with a fluff of starch-white vanilla fluff. The taste is outright sweet with hints of vanilla extract popping through each bite, adding a surprising sparkle to the darker chocolate much like a firework. But without a fuse. Or fire hazards. Or charcoal-enhanced lighting patterns in the sky. Okay, so maybe nothing like a firework.

The caramel is the only element that seems to have directly transferred itself from the original, and it is a welcome element, indeed. Thankfully, it remains the sweet, stringy goo of the original, making for an excellent canal upon which to hold nubbins of nuts, and like a good pair of cufflinks, those nuts add the perfect finishing touch. In this case, the peanuts have been replaced by almonds, which are fresh and slightly toasted, add a hint of woodsy saltiness alongside the signature crunch called forth for any Snickers experience. The power of these disparate elements unite to form a mishmash that is Rocky Road Ice Cream in candy bar form, a combination so good that it’s… it’s…

(Wants to say something in French, but realizes she doesn’t speak French)…

C’est manifique?! Oui! Bonjour!

Snickers Rockin' Nut Road Bar Satisfies indeed

If candy bars were Las Vegas entertainers, Snickers Rockin’ Nut Road would be David Copperfield: blending the whacky pops and sparkles of a sugary sweet, slightly buttery caramel with crunchy almond nibbles and a semisweet chocolate to make something pretty spectacular. Add to that a fluffy, marshmallow-like nougat and you’ve got all of these sleight of hands and daft illusions that make for a unique, successful endgame. Look out, David Copperfield. You’ve got some competition.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 230 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 90 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, less than 2 grams of dietary fiber, 26 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Snickers Rockin’ Nut Road Bar
Purchased Price: $1.29
Size: 1.73 ounces
Purchased at: Walgreens
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy outer shell. Chocolate similar to Dove dark chocolate. Marshmallow nougat. Pops of sweet vanilla. Crunchy, toasty almond halves. Rocky Road in candy bar form. Reasons to fill hungry piñatas. David Copperfield’s got competition.
Cons: Limited time only. Some may not like artificial vanilla. Slivered almonds not as chunky as peanuts. Sad, calloused pick-ax-wielders. Talking wizard dust that plan to take over the world.

Permalink | 5 Comments

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts

Written by | February 14, 2014

Topics: 6 Rating, Pop-Tarts

Kellogg's Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts

Much that makes this world excellent is breaching the big 5-0 this year: Lucky Charms, The Giving Tree, the Civil Rights Act, Dr. Strangelove. Even my beloved Pop-Tarts are whipping out their walkers and hauling their rectangular, toastified hineys Over The Hill, and, in what can only be described as a birthday party for the public, Pop-Tarts is blessing us with a flavor that’s existed only in the history books since its 2009 extinction: Chocolate Vanilla Crème.

Kellogg's Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts Fresh out of the wrapper

Right out of the wrapper, the smell of Cocoa Puffs poofs into the kitchen, knocking my nose around with smells of cocoa cereal and sweet, sweet sugar. There’s no trace of vanilla scooting into my nose just yet, but I’ve yet to crack open the gooey insides. Quick, get thee to a toaster!

Post-toast, the crust retains that certain crunch of a crackle that I so love to find in my Pop-Tarts, bursting open to reveal a layer of white goo that holds all the smell and consistency of marshmallow fluff.

And while the crust delivers on texture, it’s a bit dulled on the flavor spectrum. More mild than Cookies n’ Crème, less chocolatey than a Teddy Graham, the initial wafts of cocoa only transfer the lightest hints of a Tootsie-Roll-like cocoa powder into the actual taste, landing with all the sadness of a deflated red balloon from a French film.

Kellogg's Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts marshmallowy innards

What reins supreme is the gooey frosting center, which retains the taste and texture of a fluffified Betty Crocker Icing. The volume of his poofy innard feels scant, becoming peculiarly crusty if toasted for too long, but it delivers a powerful punch of a sugar rush with a tinge of artificial vanilla to bring some flavor to the faintly flavored crust.

Despite the wonky balance in flavor, when the forces of both elements combine, the whole Flashback Flavor tastes a bit like the birthday cake you might find at your friendly neighborhood grocer, and who’s to judge if you’re a lover grocery store birthday cake? Nary a soul! Lift up your weary head, Birthday Cake Lover, for your cake, too, should be celebrated in all its glorious, unquestioned sugary sweetness. In fact, if you or your significant other has a hankering for grocery store cake but is worried about frosting-coated fingers, consider picking up a box of these for Valentine’s Day. Nothing says, “I love you” like a new version of a formerly extinct toaster pastry.

I have a theory that, with every year we age, we get 1 percent more awesome. If that’s true, Pop-Tarts are 50 percent awesome this year. Classic flavors, like Strawberry and Brown Sugar Cinnamon, coupled with some of the newer flavors, like Pumpkin Pie and Peanut Butter, prove that Pop-Tarts’ 50 percent awesomeness has been attained. Unfortunately, this particular flavor fell just a smidge short from its tasty kin for me. While its sugary sweetness covered me to ride on a 6-day Sugar Rush, the crust was a bit flat on flavor and the filling, while fluffy, fell on the sword of too little vanilla flavor.

Kellogg's Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts Part of this birthday balanced breakfast

At the same time, while these may not amaze, I have to remember: these particular Pop-Tarts weren’t built to amaze. They were built to remind. To harken back to a Pop-Tart of yore, and, on that note, they deliver. For those nostalgic for the ol’ Chocolate Vanilla Crème or looking for a good eBay item to sell, definitely stock up now. For others searching for a powerful chocolate vanilla experience, these fall short, reminding that Pop-Tarts may be 50 percent awesome, but they still have 50 percent more room to grow.

So Happy 50th, Pop-Tarts. Thank you for bringing me your pastries. Please continue to do so for another 50. I’ll continue to eat them by the box-full.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 toaster pastry – 200 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 20 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Birthday Edition Flavor Flashback Frosted Chocolate Vanilla Creme Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 pastries
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Crispy crust. Marshmallowy sugar innards. Smells like Cocoa Puffs. Betty Crocker icing. The Giving Tree. Pop-Tarts are officially 50 percent awesome. Celebration for grocery store cake.
Cons: Not as chocolatey as they smell. More sugary than vanilla-y. Innards get cooked away when in the toaster too long. Toaster pastry extinction. Popped balloons of sorrow.

Permalink | 2 Comments

REVIEW: Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum (Lime and Redberry)

Written by | January 21, 2014

Topics: 2 Rating, 5 Rating, Gum, Stride

Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum

Over the years, I’ve collected questions for the Sour Patch Kids: What makes a Sour Patch Kid? How do you become so perfectly sour, then sweet? Must you always come in gummy form? Why do you all look like oblong gingerbread men? Are you there, Sour Patch? It’s me, Margaret.

Despite the many unknowns they present, I love those little Sour Patches, munching their gummy innards down until my mouth is raw and I’m left clutching my stomach in sheer, unadulterated sweet/sour bliss. Until recently, I could only enjoy this Sour Patch sensation in gummy form, its sour-sugary grit flitting away in the 15 seconds it takes to dissolve. Way too short. Give me your sour! Your sweet! Put it all in a glycerin gum base! Well, it looks like Sour Patch did just that, cobbling together two new gum flavors that recently struck their territory at my local Target.

The gum has the typical dimension of a piece of regular Stride, which is about the length of a large paperclip. They strike their cubist pose in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle green and what can only be a super intelligent shade of neon red. Seeing as I admire super intelligent inanimate objects, let’s start with the Redberry, shall we?

Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum Super Intelligent Shade of Red

Sourness brings out my primal competitor. You eat one Warhead. I’ll eat 5. You down 4 Cry Babies. I’ll take 10. A box of Lemonheads is nothing for my resilient tongue. Knowing that Sour Patch Kids are usually medium on the scale of sourness, I went in hoping for a mellow, but still sparky sour experience, but, alas, came out disappointed. Perhaps there’s a sparky jolt of citric acid somewhere in there, but, overall, these pieces feel about as mild as a jellybean, but how does it deliver on the fruit end of things?

While I can’t confirm it, I hypothesize this Redberry is the closest we’ll ever come to a snozberry: there’s a strong kick of maraschino cherry zing, a little sweetness of strawberry, and an echo of raspberry tartness at the tail end. It’s unashamedly “red” flavor with a slightly metallic aftertaste, but, on the whole, it tasted like Cherry ICEE concentrate. A good first showing. If you ever wished cherry Life Savers and strawberry Starbursts had a tectonic collision, this is the gum for you.

Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum Ninja Turtle Green

Avoiding the trend to mutate green-colored candies into green apple flavor (lookin’ at you, Skittles), Sour Patch left their green lime-flavored and, for better or worse, the little citrus fruit is given its due, starting with a peculiar “household cleaner” flavor that is so often found in limes. It’s shockingly astringent at first before mellowing out into a tangy, but still somewhat bitter citrus profile. The bitterness got the best of me. I tried to keep chewing to see if it might open up into lime’s more sugary qualities, but, alas, the household cleaner taste took over and it ended up tasting like gnawing on a Pledge-soaked rubber tire.

However, not all is lost! One of the many joys involved in Sour Patch consumption is combining the gummy flavors together, which got me thinking: what would happen if I combined the two flavors of gum TOGETHER?

Struck by an acute case of Curiosity, I did just that.

Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum The power of their flavors combine!

Chewed together, the flavor’s about as crazy as a 3rd grade diorama, starting off with a shock of bitter sourness from the lime that lasts for a good two minutes until it mellows into a zingy maraschino-cherry with a hint of citrus. Together, they seem to balance one another out, whistling a tune that tastes quite similar to Sonic’s Cherry Limeade if your soda maker tossed in some extra bitter limes.

Fortunately, the flavor and soft chew of Stride lasts for a good 22 minutes of jaw entertainment so you can chew on your Cherry Limeade for an entire episode of Parks and Recreation if you want. Not bad. Not bad at all.

History is marked with times in which inspiration translates into a new and altogether unique phenomenon: floppy disks inspired USB drives. Hamlet inspired The Lion King. Popcorn inspired popcorn ice cream. And now Sour Patch gummies have become chewy, slightly sour gum.

While a bit too bitter and not as puckeringly sour as one could hope, Stride’s Sour Patch Kids gum delivers an okay showing. Their fruit flavor profiles are spot on, if a little too strong, and they’re even sugar-free, which is great if you have plaque concerns, braces, or are looking to expand your intake of sucralose. I don’t necessarily seeing myself buying them again, but if you like strong cherry flavors, the Redberry’s worth the try. The lime is a little too household cleaner-y for me, but, hey, if that’s your thing, no judgments. You ask me, it’s still better than green apple Skittles. Not that I’m holding a grudge or anything.*

*I’m definitely holding a grudge.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 piece – less than 5 calories, 0 calories from fat, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 0 milligrams of sodium, 1 gram of carbohydrates, 0 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein.)

Item: Stride Sour Patch Kids Gum (Lime and Redberry)
Purchased Price: 99 cents each (on sale)
Size: 1 pack/16 pieces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 2 out of 10 (Lime)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Redberry)
Pros: Redberry tastes like Cherry ICEE concentrate. Lime eventually takes on more citrus juiciness. Together, they taste like a Cherry Limeade. Sugar-free. Chew time lasts for full half-hour TV show. 3rd grade dioramas.
Cons: Bitter metallic aftertaste. Sourness is mild. Lime started off tasting like a Pledge-soaked rubber tire. My grudge against green apple Skittles. Overused reference to Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

Permalink | 9 Comments