There’s a Smuckers Uncrustables Peanut Butter & Honey Spread Sandwich for those lazy bastards who are too fucking lazy to make their own peanut butter and honey sandwich. Sign me up!

If you love movies with the director’s name in the title then Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns is the movie for you.

Anything that tastes “like a mix of chocolate and salty nuts” must be good. Oh wait, NOT THOSE kind of salty nuts. My bad.

Do you think the Limited Edition Haagen-Dazs Vanilla Honey Bee Ice Cream would be a limited edition if the bees all over the world weren’t disappearing? Whoa…I just blew my mind.

I’m waiting for a chip that tastes spicy, sweet, sour, salty, and bitter, just like my tears of despondency after eating Thai food. For now, I’ll have to settle for the Doritos Spicy Sweet Chili chips.

I’m afraid of products that look like the radioactive rod Homer Simpson throws out of his car during the Simpsons intro.

If all it takes to achieve bliss is to eat the Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bar, then I’m staying home and eating nothing but these natural and artificial flavored bars. But really, after trying them, I doubt that these bars have the ability to give someone any amount of bliss. Even if it could, it would end up being like a vibrator, it would satisfy you for a while, but eventually you’re going to need something real.

Speaking of being real, these Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bars lack some of that in its ingredients. Each bar is made up of multigrain cereal, bran flakes, rice cereal, raspberry flavored fruit pieces, and partially dipped in what I’m now calling, I Can Believe It’s Not Chocolate, or as the packaging says “chocolatey.”

Not chocolate, “chocolatey.”

To explain “chocolatey,” I’m going to refer to a comment for The Impulsive Buy’s review of the Kellogg’s Special K Chocolatey Delight cereal from my favorite female candy expert, “Partially hydrogenated palm kernel oil + cocoa processed with alkali + cocoa = “chocolatey.” There’s no cocoa butter in there to make it chocolate.”

Its overall taste was not bad. The “raspberry flavored fruit pieces” made the bar taste like raspberry jujubes. The chocolatey part of the bar didn’t seem to add anything, since the raspberry is what stood out. For a bar that claims to be healthy, it would’ve been nice of Kellogg’s to keep it real by including actual dried raspberries in it, or at least a coupon for a free lap dance, because I think that’s the only thing that would make up for it.

Another thing that bothered me was that in the nutrition facts it claimed to have zero trans fats, but if you read the ingredients list and look at the footnotes, there’s a line that says “Less then 0.5 g trans fat per serving” thanks to the partially hydrogenated palm kernel oil. Each bar weighs less than an ounce (0.77 ounces) and is 3.5 inches long and one inch wide, which is great for people trying to portion control and lose weight, but bad for people who are hungry or guys insecure about their junk.

Overall, I think the Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bars are like Playboy Playmates, they seem good at first glance, but deep down you know there was some tricks involved. With the Bliss bars, it’s the raspberry flavored fruit pieces and the chocolatey dipping. With the Playboy Playmates, it’s Photoshop.

(Nutrition Facts - 1 bar - 90 calories, 2 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 70 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 1 grams of protein, 10% niacin, 4% iron, 10% vitamin B6, and zero grams of bliss.)

Item: Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss
Price: $3.00 (on sale, six-pack)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: 90 calories per bar. Decent tasting. Bars are small for those who want to control portions. Coupons for lap dances.
Cons: No bliss from eating bars. Ingredients list is kind of scary. 0.5 grams of trans fat. Raspberry flavored fruit pieces not actual raspberries. Chocolatey not chocolate. Not much in vitamins and minerals. Bars are small for hungry people. Chocolatey doesn’t add to the bar. Being insecure about your junk.

I really believe the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice is the marshmallow equivalent of a “fuck you.”

If only I had the addresses of all the people who have bullied, teased, or blueballed me over the years, I would be mailing these fuckers en masse. If you don’t love your child, giving this product to them is probably the softest way to let them know, right behind the words, “You were an accident…that happened in the back seat of a Ford Pinto…with some guy I met at a bar at closing…I think his name was Rick…or Roger…I only had you for the welfare.”

The idea of a strawberry-flavored marshmallow that is shaped like a pizza is something beyond a novelty. It is like a cruel joke that is so cruel, no one laughs at it. Yes, I did say that this marshmallow pizza is strawberry flavored. I will admit a marshmallow pizza that is pizza flavored sounds even worse, but at least it would make sense.

Strangely, I wasn’t drunk, high, or delirious with hunger when I bought it, but I wish I was drunk or high when I ate some of it, because it is something I would like to forget in either an alcoholic haze or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style.

I took three regrettable bites out of the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice and then wished for a flux capacitor to be delivered via FedEx to my door so that I can go back in time and stop myself from purchasing something that not even fat kids would eat.

Its strawberry flavor was like I was eating a shitty strawberry yogurt. Its texture was a little tough, which is weird since it is a frickin’ marshmallow. Finally, the marshmallow pizza itself looked like a Picasso abstract painting…done by a 6-year-old with fingerpaints and on acid.

Despite everything bad about the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice, there is some good. It is fat free, but unfortunately, the zero grams of fat don’t make up for the 1,000 grams of shame.

(Nutrition Facts - 1/2 package - 150 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 35 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbs, 0 grams of fiber, 26 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 4% calcium, 2% iron, and 1,000 grams of shame.)

Item: Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice
Price: $1.49
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: It didn’t make me puke. Fat free.
Cons: It’s a pizza that’s strawberry flavored. 1,000 grams of shame. The marshmallow equivalent of a fuck you. Shitty strawberry taste. No flux capacitor.

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in an M.C. Escher painting, running through endless corridors of waterfalls and weird shit only to end up in the same place. This might be because I browse the shopping aisles after taking a tab of acid, but it’s more likely that I’m just running into the same lazy promotions. Oh boy, another company gone “extreme” to spice up my life. I’ve grown weary of writing “extreme” jokes every other review, so if this is their intention, they have turned me into a beaten man.

Luckily, there is more to this damnation of cardboard tube than a stupid name, and believe me, it is a very stupid name. “Screamin’ Dill Pickle” was actually slang for gonorrhea where I grew up. It brought back some bad memories when I saw this on the shelves. Pickle flavoring on Pringles scared the shit out of me. I absolutely hate it when I get pickle juice on my fries, so pickle flavoring on Pringles would probably be that much worse.

I should probably explain Pringles to the uninitiated. Pringles are for small children who enjoy the novelty of eating stackable chips and stoners who like making those Pringles lips as seen in the commercials. If potato chips were steak, then Pringles would be mechanically separated beef. That’s because Pringles are “potato crisps” that are made from a potato-based dough not unlike your favorite instant mashed potatoes. While this does wonders for their ability to be neatly stacked into tubes, it doesn’t keep Pringles from tasting like salty paper.

While I figured that I probably wouldn’t enjoy this, I was still willing to give it a shot. I figured that the pickle flavoring would be mild at best. I also enjoy partaking in a crispy pickle spear fresh from the jar every once in a while, so I figured that I was prepared for some mighty picklage. However, you readers should know by now that I judge about as well as Lance Ito.

This is either the best thing ever or a nauseating abomination depending on your level of sanity. I don’t know how they did it, but it actually tastes more pickley than a pickle. It pretty much tastes like a McDonalds pickle if you were to take a swig of the juice right after consumption and then had someone kick you right in the nuts.

An informal taste test among a few friends confirmed that it is indeed disgusting, even for pickle lovers. The smell of it is also unsettlingly pungent. Just opening the tube around people leads to many audible complaints, escalating into violent threats after an extended period of time. If you ever sense the pleasurable aroma of pickles at your house, don’t be alarmed. It’s just me opening my Pringles and wondering if these extreme companies will ever let me go shopping sober again.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 ounce - 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 110mg sodium, 14 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 gram of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 0% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 0% Iron)

Item: Pringles Extreme Screamin’ Dill Pickle
Price: 99 cents
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Very, very, very pickley if you’re into that sort of thing. Tube is sturdy and plastic cap fits well. May be able to fit some small tennis balls in there.
Cons: Just one chip tastes like ten concentrated pickle slices. The smell is ridiculously strong and literally nauseating. People who make Pringles lips. Pringles kind of suck compared to real potato chips. Companies that are too lazy to name their products anything other than Extreme.

I approached the checkout line at Target with caution. As a painfully neurotic and self-conscious person, I can get pretty freaked out about my shopping choices.


“Sir? I can help you over here,” a pleasant voice said, coming from the express line.

Damn it, stuck with the young, cute cashier again. Always the least attentive and most judgmental cashier available − too attractive to have a filter and too curious to leave me alone. The worst combination possible.

I tiptoed over slowly, put my hands in my pockets and said, “Uhh…yeah, I’ll just take everything in the basket. If you could just look to the left and blindly scan as quickly as possible, that’d be awesome.”

She laughed, “Sir, we can’t do that.”

As I was busy shifting my eyes side to side and fidgeting, she said, “Hey, what’s this?”

“IT’S FOR MY GIRLFRIEND!” I exclaimed, not knowing what she picked up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess it’s a little personal,” she remarked, picking up a bottle of KY warming jelly.

Thank God. I wiped my forehead and casually quipped, “Oh, that? It’s just lube. I’m really sorry, I get a little defensive this time of year.”

She raised her eyebrows and went back to the basket to pick up a few more items. “Three bottles?”

I squinted my eyes and nodded, “Yeah. In addition to a little defensive, I get a lot of other emotions as well.”

Then her hand went for the last item in the basket. My heart raced. Holy shit, she was really going to see it. I braced myself as she looked at it.

Her eyes lit up. “Wow, this is cute! What is it?”

I slowly shook my head and pretended to look puzzled, saying, “Wow. That’s…that’s crazy, how did that get in there? Oh wait, I think I got that for my…my…valentine?”

“Is your valentine a ten year old girl?” she asked.

I sighed. The jig was up. I explained, “Look, it’s a collection of Hello Kitty PEZ dispensers, okay? Not only does it have three Hello Kitty designs, it also has a bunny thing confusingly named My Melody. Her ears kind of look like one of those giant foam fingers that you get at baseball games and Phoenix Wright conventions, so I thought it was pretty cool. I was just buying the other stuff so that maybe you wouldn’t notice the box.”

“Aww…you didn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to like a kid’s candy,” she replied.

I felt the need to further incriminate myself by saying, “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t really like PEZ. It’s basically colored sugar in brick form and the bonus candy bracelet is just about the most unsanitary method of eating I can think of. The box is really cool, though. I bet it’ll sell for a lot on eBay.”

She was beginning to look tired of feigning interest, saying, “Yeah…I mean, yeah, I guess it is. Well, I hope you enjoy your Valentine’s Day.”

I got over the embarrassment of my purchase and found the courage to ask, “Hey…if you’re not doing anything that day, maybe I pick you up at around 7:30?”

She stared at me blankly for few moments and began to crack a smile. The smile turned into giggle which turned into a cacophony of laughter. She shook her head and tore out the receipt, saying, “You’re hilarious, have a nice day!”

I took my bag and made a beeline for the exit. I whispered under my breath, “God…this is just as humiliating as Christmas shopping at the 99 Cent Store, just with higher prices and fewer rapists.”

Despite my troubles, I left Target with my head held up high. I didn’t have my manhood, dignity, or a Valentine’s Day date, but I had something that money can’t buy. The pride of having a lunchbox full of glass Hello Kitty PEZ dispensers, and really, that’s at least one more thing than I had last Valentine’s Day.

Item: Sanrio Hello Kitty PEZ Dispensers
Price: $9.99
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Fun design and shapes that kids and nerds can appreciate. Comes in an adorable tin box. Well made glass material. Might be worth something to a socially awkward collector on eBay.
Cons: PEZ is pretty plain and doesn’t taste very interesting. PEZ candy can probably destroy your fillings. Attractive cashiers who question the things that you buy.