I do not know if any of you noticed, but Honey Bunches of Oats is reproducing like rabbits and I bet people in China are pissed. While each couple in China can have only one child, an asexual semi-healthy cereal can have seven offspring, with the possibility of more. I bet you right now that Honey Bunches of Oats is off somewhere breeding. Its most recent spawn is the Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters.

With a plethora of Honey Bunches of Oats variations, I am wondering when it is going to stop popping out new flavors. Right now, there is Honey Bunches of Oats Honey Roasted, Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Strawberries, Honey Bunches of Oats with Cinnamon Clusters, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Peaches, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Bananas, Honey Bunches of Oats with Vanilla Clusters and of course, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters.

You know what? Maybe Honey Bunches of Oats is on welfare and its timing these births so that it doesn’t have to go off of welfare. Just keep reproducing and it can keep getting welfare. There is an endless amount of Honey Bunches of Oats possibilities, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Apples, Honey Bunches of Oats with Caramel Clusters, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Starfruit or Honey Bunches of Oats with Orange Zest. If Honey Bunches of Oats is defrauding the government and stealing our tax dollars, I am going to get its tubes tied.

Or maybe Honey Bunches of Oats is a polygamist and part of the Fundamentalist Crunchy Cereal Church and it lives with all of its Honey Bunches of Oats wives in a secluded ranch in the middle of Texas. Oh, the inbreeding could lead to some fucked up offspring, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Bacon, Honey Bunches of Oats with Fluoride or Honey Bunches of Oats with Honey Bunches of Oats.

Anyway, I am exciting about Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters because it means we are one step closer to having Little Chocolate Donuts on our breakfast table. Fortunately, this cereal comes with real semi-sweet chocolate (with cocoa butter) and not that “chocolatey” bullshit, which is the equivalent of a Waikiki transvestite hooker — looks good on the outside, but do a little digging and you’ll have a bitter taste in your mouth. Unless a bitter taste in your mouth is something you are into and willing to pay extra for.

Like I wrote in the previous paragraph, this cereal has semi-sweet chocolate, which makes sense because having sweet chocolate would be retarded in a cereal that supposed to be healthy. Unfortunately, the semi-sweet chocolate clusters gives the cereal a really weak chocolate flavor and I was hoping that Barney Rubble would give me some his stolen Cocoa Pebbles to mix with this cereal.

Despite its weak chocolate flavor, I have to say that it is one of my favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variations. It has got the whole grain goodness for the adult in me, the chocolate goodness for the kid in me, and it allows me to buy a chocolate cereal that doesn’t make me look like a pathetic bachelor, puerile adult, or possible pedophile.

(Nutrition Facts - 3/4 cup - 120 calories, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 65 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar, 16 grams of other carbs, 2 grams of protein, a whole lot of vitamins and minerals, and 1 step closer to getting mini Hershey’s Kisses into a cereal.)

Item: Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters
Price: $4.00 (on sale - 14.5 ounces)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Real chocolate in it. Clusters are crunchy. Honey Bunches of Oats. One step closer to having Little Chocolate Donuts. Vitamins and minerals.
Cons: Chocolate didn’t stand out. My excessive use of “Honey Bunches of Oats” in this review (to kill some time, count the number of times I used it). Honey Bunches of Oats with Fluoride. Chocolatey bullshit. Welfare fraud.

All right, Limited Edition Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme, let’s get you into these stirrups. Are you comfortable? Okay, we’re going to take this step by step. I’m now going to insert the speculum to separate your cookie.

Yes, “cookie” is an approved scientific term and we use it all the time at the OB/GYN conferences. Actually, I just gave a presentation at the American Academy of Obstetrics and Gynecology Conference titled, “Effects of Pregnancy on the Cookie — How Does It Crumble?”

Just to warn you, the speculum is going to be a little cold when I gently stick it in you. There we go. Are you doing okay? I’m going to open it up a bit. Is your va-jay-jay okay?

Yes, “va-jay-jay” is now an approved scientific term, thanks to Oprah and her powerful influence. If you look in any recent OB/GYN medical journal, like the Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology or VAG: The Virgin Island’s Articles of Gynecology, you’ll see it is used quite a bit.

So let’s take a look in there, Limited Edition Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme. You’ve got a nice healthy pink going on. It reminds me of bubblegum. Have you had any pain or discomfort in the pelvic, vaginal or rectal areas? No? Good. Have you had any issues with your period? No? Great. Have you had any unusual discharges? No? Good.

Okay, now I’m going to put on some gloves, lube up a little bit, and feel around in there. I’m going to press on your stomach and let me know if anything feels painful, besides me putting two latex covered fingers up your taco.

Yes, “taco” is another approved scientific term. Actually, the American Association of OB/GYNs prefer the use of the term “pink taco.” Now I’m just going to stick this swab in you to get a sample. This will probably cause some discomfort. Are you doing okay? I got a good sample. Now I’m going to taste the sample. Don’t worry, it’s a new European technique that I learned at one of our overseas conferences.

Your sample is crunchy. Hmm…let me lick the center. The center of the sample tastes kind of like strawberry ice cream, like it should, since you are the Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme. Your balanced combination of strawberry creme and chocolate cookie is pretty good. I think I’m going to need another sample from you to taste, which I apologize for since it will be a little uncomfortable with the swab.

If only you had some vanilla, then I think you would make a mean Neapolitan Oreo. You know what. I think another sample is necessary, because I need to dip it in milk. I apologize again for the discomfort.

Hmm…it’s decent with milk, but I prefer dipping regular Oreos in milk.

Well your va-jay-jay looks good, Limited Edition Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme. Do you have any questions for me? No? Well then, take care of yourself, avoid men who scratch their balls too much, keep your cooter away from schlongs it can’t handle, and I’ll see you in a few months.

Yes, “cooter” and “schlong” are now approved scientific terms.

(Nutrition Facts - 2 cookies - 140 calories, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 45 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbs, less than 1 gram of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 1 grams of protein, and 1 gram of Kelis jokes.)

(Editor’s Note: For more Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme reviews without va-jay-jay references, check out the review from Phoood, We Called It, and Oreo Opinion.)

Item: Limited Edition Oreo Strawberry Milkshake Creme
Price: $3.89
Purchased at: Star Market
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Delicious. Creme center tastes kind of like strawberry ice cream. Kind of addicting, like regular Oreos. No trans fats. Mila Kunis.
Cons: Limited edition. Visits to the gynecologist. Not that great with milk, like regular Oreos are. Eating an entire tray of them in one sitting.

Listen to the audio version

If you’re not of the Asian persuasion, you might have a hard time determining the differences between all of us Asians. There’s Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Taiwanese, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Thai, Filipino and the list goes on. If you have a hard time with the various Asian ethnicities and just lump us all together, don’t feel bad because we Asians can’t determine what specific ethnicity you are either. But if there’s one thing that you can determine much more accurately, it is the authentic cuisine from each culture.

Sushi and ramen are authentic Japanese dishes. Pansit and bagoong are real Filipino recipes. Kimchi and bibimbap are genuine Korean courses. However, Panda Express’ Mongolian Beef and their new Beijing Beef are fucking made up.

The Beijing Beef, which is made up of crispy strips of marinated beef, with bell peppers and onions in a tangy sweet and spicy sauce, is as authentic as the boobs on Daisy from Rock of Love 2 or the love any of the women on Flavor of Love have for the imp-ish Flavor Flav.

I know it feels like I just punched through your chest and ripped out your heart, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom-style, but I have to tell you that Panda Express isn’t real Chinese food. Heck, while I’m stabbing you in the heart with chopsticks, I also have to tell you that P.F. Chang’s is also not authentic Chinese food. Also, Miley Cyrus is Hannah Montana.

Despite not being an authentic Chinese dish, I have to say that I really enjoyed the Panda Express Beijing Beef. Crispy beef sounds weird, but it was not crispy like fried chicken, instead its coating had a slight crunch. The meat inside the coating was also tender and the bell peppers and onions were nice and crisp.

If you like the Sweet & Sour Pork from Panda Express, you’ll like the Beijing Beef because they pretty much taste the same. They even look the same since both dishes have bell peppers and onions. The sauce was supposed to be spicy, but it seemed as mild as the Sweet & Sour Pork sauce, which disappointed me because I love the mui caliente.

If you’re disappointed to find out that Panda Express isn’t authentic Chinese food, take solace in the fact some genuine Asian dishes can either kill you, make you consume an embryo, or get you to eat something that most people consider a pet.

(Nutrition Facts - 5 ounces - 420 calories, 25 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 730 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbs, 1 grams of dietary fiber, 15 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein, and 0 grams of Chinese authenticity.)

Item: Panda Express Beijing Beef
Price: $6.50 (2 choice plate)
Purchased at: Panda Express
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Oishii desu yo! (It’s tasty!) If you like Panda Express’ Sweet & Sour Pork, you’re going to like this. Vegetables were crisp. Sushi. Rock of Love 2 The Flight of the Conchords album.
Cons: Not really spicy. Crispy beef seems kind of weird. Not authentic Chinese food. Eating pets, chicken embryos, or things that can kill you. Not being able to determine different ethnicities. Having to make out with Flavor Flav.

Listen to the audio version

Woah, woah, woah, whoa. Hold on there Burger King Cheesy Bacon BK Wrapper. Don’t be calling yourself cheesy, my Weezie. Chester Cheetah got it right when he said, “It ain’t easy bein’ cheesy.” Just like nicknames, you can’t just call yourself “cheesy,” you have to earn it.

You just can’t put cheese on or in you and expect to be “cheesy.” If putting processed cheese slices over my nipples as pasties doesn’t make me cheesy, I don’t think the American cheese and smokey cheese sauce that goes along with your eggs, bacon, hash browns, and flour tortilla can or should make you “cheesy.”

Just like most good cheeses — like Brie, Gorgonzola, and Velveeta — it takes time to develop a good cheesiness. Be considerate of all of those who spent years to become “cheesy,” like Robin Williams, Richard Simmons, reality shows, the use of the phrase “fo’ shizzle,” and t-shirts that say “I’m with stupid.” They put a lot of hard work into being cheesy and for you to come out and announce to the world that you’re cheesy, puts down all that effort.

As you can see in the photo above the only thing cheesy about the Burger King Cheesy Bacon BK Wrapper is the amount of ingredients in it. The paltry three pieces of hash browns was sad and the amount of bacon in it was so pathetic that I wished for more meat and it was probably the only time I will ever hope for a sausagefest.

Overall, the Burger King Cheesy Bacon BK Wrapper was decent, if you’re able to get all the different ingredients within one bite. The smokey cheese sauce didn’t add anything to it and I thought a spicy sauce would’ve been better. The hash browns were a little soggy from the cheese sauce, but at least the person making my Burger King Cheesy Bacon BK Wrapper didn’t fuck up the eggs or the soft flour tortilla.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to age some cheese pasties on my nipples.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 wrapper - 390 calories, 24 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 150 milligrams of cholesterol, 1080 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbs, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 14 grams of protein, and 50 grams of phallic deformity.)

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to Ryan for finding the nutrition facts.)

Item: Burger King Cheesy Bacon BK Wrapper
Price: $4.99 (value meal)
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: An entire breakfast stuffed in a wrapper. Using cheese as pasties. Good, if you can get all the ingredients in one bite.
Cons: No nutrition facts on website. Amount of bacon and hash browns were pathetic. Not earning the right to be called cheesy. Using “fo’ shizzle.” Sausagefests.

Listen to the audio version

Ladies and gentlemen. I am about to do something amazing right now. I am going to eat the Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger here in front of you in one sitting. I know what you’re thinking. You’re looking at the burger and thinking to yourself that it seems like an easy feat to accomplish, like beating a five-year-old at arm wrestling or making out with Tila Tequila.

But let me tell you that this here burger is no mere burger, ladies and gentlemen. The Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger features a seasoned sirloin patty on a bakery-style bun with bacon, American cheese, fried onion rings, and a BBQ sauce. This burger has the ability to make nutritionists cry, turn the obese obese-er, and make an Olsen twin look pregnant if eaten whole. Now watch as I stick this burger in my mouth.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Now you’re probably saying to yourself that sticking the burger into my mouth didn’t look too hard, but let me tell you that this burger had the capacity to make many things hard, like my arteries and Jack’s cock since these pricey sirloin burgers are making him a ton of money. Let me take another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Ladies and gentlemen. I have taken several bites from the Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger and it appears that I have not been affected by it, but the truth be told, that I have been deeply affected by it. When I am done with this burger, 1,010 calories, 49 grams of fat, 5 grams of trans fat, 2,190 milligrams of sodium, and 91 grams of carbs will have entered my body. To rid myself of all of this, I am forced to do something extreme, called exercise. Let me partake in another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

Let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, it is difficult to completely consume this burger, because it is very bland. Despite all of its ingredients, none of them were noticeable. The BBQ sauce was very light in flavor, the onion rings had no taste, and the sirloin patty was disappointing. If this burger actually tasted good, I wouldn’t feel so bad about risking my health for it. It’s like I would have sex with Tara Reid, if I knew by doing so, she wouldn’t make anymore movies. Let me take another bite from the burger.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

I give up! Uncle! Uncle! I am sorry to disappoint, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, I am unable to consume the entire burger within one sitting. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to eat tofu and rice for the rest of the week to detox.

Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 burger - 1,010 calories, 49 grams of fat, 19 grams of saturated fat, 5 grams of trans fat, 150 milligrams of cholesterol, 2,190 milligrams of sodium, 690 milligrams of potassium, 91 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 16 grams of sugar, 52 grams of protein, and 1,000 grams of regret.)

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to yawnie and dramastically for suggesting this burger. Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom.)

Item: Jack in the Box BBQ Bacon Sirloin Burger
Price: $7.19 (small combo)
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Hearty burger. Nom, nom, nom, nom, nom, nom. Having sex with Tara Reid if it means she would no longer do any acting.
Cons: Motherfucking unhealthy. Lack of vegetables that aren’t deep fried. BBQ taste was almost nonexistent. Onion rings didn’t add anything, except a crunch. Making out with Tila Tequila.

Listen to the audio version

At a table in the back is a parent who doesn’t care.
Their child is giving them their spoiled glare.
They whine and swear about how it’s not fair.
“I WANT WHO-CAKES!” is what they blare.
Others in the restaurant hear it, then stop and stare.
So the parent orders IHOP Who-Cakes out of despair.

The impatient kid slams the utensils in a hissy fit.
I mutter a little whit, “Fucking spoiled little shit.”
Loud brat has me thinking vasectomy, I will admit.
This child’s parent is unfit, just like that bitch Brit.
When the Who-Cakes came, I thought it’ll quiet for a bit.
But that little annoying bundle of hell wouldn’t quit.

The Who-Cakes are something no child should eat.
The frosting colors seem unnatural and sweet.
It’s like a volcano spewing M&M’s and clown excrete.
I won’t consider it a meal on its own, it’s more like a treat.
I know having one could make diabetes and me meet.
So I pray for the best, order the Who-Cakes and feel replete.

I can’t believe these IHOP Who-Cakes is what I crave.
There are so many things about it that makes me afraid.
Blue and pink berry frosting made to look like a cascade.
A pink lollipop stabbed through, so no pancake strayed.
Because of this, Dr. Seuss’ body is rolling in its grave.
It also did that after the Cat in the Hat movie was made.

I only ate half of the IHOP Who-Cakes on the plate.
There wasn’t enough of the frosting on it to regulate.
It tasted like pancakes with blueberries that were fake.
M&M’s in breakfast food seems weird to partake.
The bubblegum flavored lollipop was its best trait.
The sugar in this dish will probably add some weight.

Even the noisy, spoiled little punk couldn’t eat it through.
Fortunately, overdosing on sugar caused him to be subdue.
This mountain of hot cakes and candy isn’t worth it to pursue.
I can’t believe IHOP had a movie tie-in for Horton Hears A Who.
Thankfully, once the movie stops playing we will bid it adieu.
So until then, please consider making the Who-Cakes taboo.

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to TIB reader Caroline for suggesting the IHOP Who-Cakes and subjecting me to children who were like little bundles of joy, if joy were a swift kick to the head.)

Item: IHOP Who-Cakes
Price: $4.99
Purchased at: IHOP
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Bubblegum flavored lollipop. NKOTB reunion.
Cons: Tastes like artificial blueberry pancakes when eating with unnatural colored frosting. Not a complete breakfast. Not enough frosting crap on it. Candy + pancakes = possible diabetes. Frosting colors don’t occur in nature. No nutritional facts on website.

If you want your kid to succeed, because you weren’t athletic, talented, pretty, or smart enough to be successful when you were growing up, then Frosted Flakes Gold cereal just might be what your kids need to give you the opportunity to live vicariously through them. According to the box, the crunchy flakes made with whole grain and baked with honey is supposed to provide long-lasting energy, a label usually reserved for energy drinks and wang medications.

With a name like Frosted Flakes Gold, I was hoping that there would be gold in the box, like the gold flakes in Goldschlager or the golden light that shines out of Selma Hayek’s va-jay-jay. Despite my extensive digging, I couldn’t find any gold, not even with the help of Heather Mills. The only thing shiny about the cereal was the box it came in, which had a foil exterior.

Frosted Flakes Gold cereal smelled like Golden Grahams cereal and it tasted like store-brand lite pancake syrup, which actually isn’t bad compared with this cereal’s predecessor, the shitastic Kellogg’s Tiger Power. After eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes Gold cereal every morning for a week, I have to say that I didn’t feel like it was giving me long-lasting energy. If the high fructose corn syrup it in was replaced with caffeine or meth, it would probably give me two to three hours of lasting energy, followed by some downtime or my mouth wrapped around things it shouldn’t be wrapped around.

I’m not a parent, but what I’ve learned from watching “I Know My Kid’s A Star” is that children don’t need special whole grain cereals that’s promoted by a cartoon tiger in order to be successful. All they need are parents who are crazy enough to stab someone in the back for their child, demanding enough to cause their children to turn to alcohol before they can drive, and shameless enough to have their child be a part of a reality show on VH1 with Danny Bonaduce.

(Nutrition Facts - 3/4 cup - 110 calories, 0.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 30 milligrams of potassium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 14 grams of other carbohydrates, 2 grams of protein, and a whole lot of vitamins and nutrients.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes Gold
Price: $6.59 (16.9-ounces)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Fancy shiny box. Decent tasting. Tastes like lite pancake syrup. Smells like Golden Grahams. 3 grams of fiber per serving. Better than Tiger Power cereal. Selma Hayek’s va-jay-jay.
Cons: High Fructose Corn Syrup. Doesn’t seem to give me long-lasting energy. The parents on “I Know My Kid’s A Star.” Couldn’t find gold with Heather Mills’ help. Wrapping my mouth around things it shouldn’t be wrapped around.