“Help…me…eat…me,” the CroisSONIC BLT said as it gasped for breath when I opened its foiled wrapper. I knew something was wrong when I heard it cough like an 80-year-old diner waitress whose voice had been scarred by years of hollering out quirky names for the way an egg is cooked and inhaling second hand smoke. What could I possibly do? I looked away for a moment, pondering over if I should neglect this sandwich. No, I couldn’t possibly abandon it as it stared at me with its bacon tongue sticking out of its limp bun of a mouth, oh excuse me, croissant.

“Help…me…eat…me,” the CroisSONIC BLT continued to plead. Did it want me to end its misery after spending its entire childhood under a heat lamp? I did not want to ask it questions, because it was so pitiful to look at. It wasn’t as emotional as those commercials with Sarah McLachlan showing neglected puppies and kitties, which make me weep, but it was pretty awful.

This sandwich, if you could even call it that, put me in a very awkward position. Not as awkward as the time my grandmother asked what “Two Girls One Cup” meant, but awkward nevertheless. Should I eat it, or should I just give it to one of those puppies in that Sarah McLachlan commercial? I decided to take a bite. “Thank…you,” it said in its weak ET-like voice. I was sure that this would be a glorious day for the CroisSONIC BLT, but it would not be one for my colon.

I thought it would be harder than it was to end this sad little sandwich’s life. Actually, the entire task took less than three minutes, and that was alternating between a Diet Cherry Limeade (one of the reasons to go to Sonic) and the medium order of tater tots that came packaged along with this depressing sandwich. Thankfully, those tater tots were the Prozac I needed to help get me through the serious bouts of sadness that occurred while eating the pathetic CroisSONIC BLT.

The croissant made Burger King’s look like a freshly baked, buttery pastry that could be found in the finest of Parisian bakeries, while the strips of bacon were nice and crisp. BUT THERE WERE ONLY TWO STRIPS!!! It’s a BLT, Sonic! All caps, not a bLT. As for the lettuce and tomato, they were…well…not ripe.

The CroisSONIC BLT had so much potential, but alas, it just fell into the trap that a lot of fast food sandwiches tend to crash into (a.k.a Sandwich Skid Row). It sounds good and the original looks scrumptious, but it loses its self worth because it knows it could never live up to what’s on billboards and television commercials. It does not care what it looks like and just waits until a hungry human takes it out of its misery.

With all of these sad sandwiches, there needs to be a fast food sandwich rehab, which I think would also make a decent reality show.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 425 calories, 29.6 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 32 milligrams of cholesterol, 888 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, 12 grams of protein, 16% vitamin A, 7% vitamin C, 4% calcium, 8% iron.)

Item: Sonic CroisSONIC BLT
Price: $2.99 (with medium tots)
Size: 137 grams
Purchased at: Sonic
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Good value. Crispy bacon. My colon forgiving me for eating this sandwich. Doesn’t take long to eat if you’re in a rush. It’s delivered to you by people on skates. No trans fats. Tots are good.
Cons: Limp croissant. Only two strips of bacon. Sandwiches that end up on skid row. Not enough food to cure severe bouts of hunger. Almost 30 grams of fat. Too much sodium.

It’s pretty pathetic that someone born and raised in New England has never gone skiing. It’s even more pathetic that this person spent a week at a mountain resort town in Switzerland and not once strapped on the skis and tried the bunny slope. The same person would probably not even consider skiing in the celebrity-laden, snooty, yet sporty town of Aspen, Colorado.

However, I…I mean, this person would not be added to a long list of poseurs that includes the dude in the “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” music video and Kevin Federline (wait, aren’t they the same person?) by walking around the lodge pimped out in the latest North Face gear bragging about the “black diamond” run (that’s what they call it, right?). No, instead I would be in the corner, sitting next to a fireplace like the Masterpiece Theatre guy, except I would be nursing an Irish Coffee and maybe enjoying the new Blue Bunny Raspberry Vanilla Aspen Frozen Yogurt Granola Bar. Although, this frozen confection would be melted before I even open the wrapper due to the blazing, yet romantic fire burning beside me. In fact, it was pretty much melting upon opening in the comfort of an air-conditioned room. Not a good sign.

The Blue Bunny Raspberry Vanilla Aspen Frozen Yogurt Granola Bar is enrobed with a vanilla yogurt shell that’s covers the entire bar like a nice LL Bean cable-knit sweater or a ski jacket with pockets inside of pockets. The yogurt shell is similar to the stuff on some trail mix raisins. On top, there’s a small dusting of granola.

I wanted to enjoy the first bite, but like I said, it was melting already, so the first bite was quick and ended in a slurp. The raspberry fro-yo is very tasty (avid readers know I’m a whore for raspberry flavored things) and it combines well with the vanilla yogurt shell and the layer of raspberry preserve that’s stuck in there. The crunch of the granola is pretty darn good, but I don’t think there’s enough of it to formally call this frozen yogurt novelty a granola bar. Blue Bunny boasts that these treats are loaded with probiotic cultures, which is just a chemistry way of saying that these bars can aid in bowel movements and keep you regular without the need of Metamucil or the new Volcano Menu at Taco Bell.

Usually size doesn’t matter (when it comes to frozen treats), but I was quite impressed by the size of these things (I am a small girl though). They’re roughly the size of a Milky Way, but of course they disappear quicker, because for some reason when instantly exposed to non-freezer like conditions they morph into the Wicked Witch of the West or Joan Rivers at the beach (wait, aren’t they the same person?).

Even with the fast melting, the Blue Bunny Raspberry Vanilla Aspen bars are pretty good, but I wouldn’t necessarily call these a healthy alternative to other frozen treats, because one bar packs 150 calories (80 of which are from fat) and 35% of your daily saturated fat content! But, really traditional granola bars are similar in nutrition, but a lot of us forget that because it’s ingrained in us they are healthy. If you are a granola bar lover (like myself) you might be disappointed in the lack of granola, but like those yogurt cups with the granola on top, you can add your own to the Aspen bar by dipping it in more. Similar to what people do with Funny Bones by injecting more peanut butter, or that creepy lion woman injecting more collagen in her lips.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Bar – 150 calories, 8 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 50 milligrams of sodium, 75 milligrams of potassium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 10% calcium, 4% riboflavin, 4% phosphorus and 2% vitamin B12.)

Item: Blue Bunny Raspberry Vanilla Aspen Frozen Yogurt Granola Bars
Price: $2.50
Size: 8-pack
Purchased at: Wal-Mart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Different than most frozen novelties. Coating is not white chocolate. Sweater weather. Probiotic cultures helps you stay regular. Bar size.
Cons: Never experiencing the slopes. Not enough granola. Not being able to find your keys. Because your anorak has more pockets than necessary. People who get uber amounts of plastic surgery. High in saturated fat.

Cookie Crisp has always had the potential to be THE GREATEST CEREAL THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN. All General Mills, the maker of Cookie Crisp, has to do to make this happen is to turn to the dark side, but they haven’t done it, yet, with their new Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal.

When I say “dark side,” I’m not talking about the one filled with anger and hate that turned Anakin Skywalker into the heartless and powerful Darth Vader. Instead, I’m talking about the one that’s filled with greed and gluttony and has the ability to turn an ordinary couch potato into the heart-diseased and easily winded Girth Vider.

This dark side also has the ability to turn Trix into something you would want to eat with a condom on, preferably on your tongue, unless you pay extra to fuck it.

If General Mills did turn to the dark side and wanted Cookie Crisp to be THE GREATEST CEREAL THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN, the cereal would be made up of actual mini cookies, and none of these unsatisfying cookie-shaped pieces.

These cookies would be made with enough milk to make a cow’s udder spew dust, enough flour to make it look like one just came from a 1980s cocaine party, enough eggs to make PETA protest, enough butter to make Paula Deen weep, enough sugar to rot one’s teeth instantly and enough love to make one file a restraining order.

Unfortunately, the Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal maintains the status quo with its vanilla-flavored cereal with colorful sprinkles on top. It has a flavor that’s similar to regular Cookie Crisp, except without the slight chocolate chip flavor, proving the sprinkles are just there to distract from the fact that the cereal has no personality, like silicone breast implants do for most female reality show contestants.

I prefer regular Cookie Crisp over Sprinkles Cookie Crisp, but that’s just me, because I tend to prefer chocolately cereals. So if Cookie Crisp decided to go to the dark side and sell a box that contains nothing but Mini Oreos or Mini Chips Ahoy, I would purchase that in a heartbeat and then wait for that heartbeat to quicken as I turn into Girth Vider.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup with skim milk – 140 calories, 1 gram of fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 240 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 16 grams of sugar, 12 grams of other carbohydrates, 5 grams of protein and a whole lot of vitamins and minerals.)

(Note: Here’s an old review I did for Peanut Butter Cookie Crisp. I’m not sure if it still exists.)

Item: Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal
Price: $5.49
Size: 12.2 ounces
Purchased at: Foodland
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Like regular Cookie Crisp, except without the light chocolate chip flavor. Sprinkles give the cereal some color. Going to the dark side, if you’re a cereal company. A cereal made up of Mini Oreos or Mini Chips Ahoy.
Cons: Not better than regular Cookie Crisp. Kind of boring. Not made up of actual cookies. Turning into Girth Vider. Going to the dark side, if you’re a Jedi. Most reality show contestants. Eating Trix that has turned to the dark side.

I’m no party planning expert, but I do know a fancy toothpick though a Vienna sausage does not make it a classy hors d’oeuvre you can serve your hoity-toity friends. The bite-sized Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings may have the light, elegant croissant exterior that would appeal to your pretentious pals, but when stuffed with pepperoni, mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce the flaky crust instantly becomes this product’s fancy toothpick. Actually, I don’t think any flavor that you can also find in a Hot Pocket can be stuffed into a croissant without causing a French pastry chef somewhere to weep in disgust.

The outside of each Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings was flakier than a crack addict responsible for turning in the rent check. It was delicious and its taste reminded Totino’s pepperoni party pizzas, which after some research shouldn’t have been surprising since Totino’s is a Pillsbury product. I also found out during my investigation that Totino’s also has cheap pepperoni Pizza Rolls, which probably tastes like these Savorings. So basically this product tries to be sophisticated, but despite the flaky pastry exterior it’s just a simple pizza roll. It’s just like the contestants on Rock of Love: Charm School; as hard as they try to be refined, deep down they’re still strippers and whores.

The only characteristic that makes the Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings seem fancy it its price, which is much more than its lowbrow cousin, Totino’s Pizza Rolls. With a high price tag, it was even more disappointing that the box contained only 12 measly pieces. Not only are these Savorings pricey, they’re also a pain in the ass to make because, according to the box, they can’t be microwaved. Instead I was forced to kick it old school by doing some preheating and baking them in an oven or toaster oven for 17-22 minutes. I would understand doing this for a meal, but not for a snack.

The Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings may be small, but they’re big in saturated fat and sodium. Eat four of them and you’ll get 35 percent of your daily recommended allowance of saturated fat and 20 percent of your daily recommended allowance of sodium, which is somewhat salty, but not as salty as your hoity-toity friends.

(Nutrition Facts – 4 pastry bites – 250 calories, 16 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 450 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 6 grams of protein, 10% Vitamin A, 4% Calcium, and 8% Iron.)

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to TIB reader tobikiriakujin for suggesting the Pillsbury Savorings via Twitter. Speaking of Twitter, if you have a Twitter account, you can follow me here. Also, here’s a link to a review of the Buffalo Style Chicken version.)

Item: Pillsbury Mozzarella & Pepperoni Savorings
Price: $4.99 (on sale)
Size: 12 count
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Delicious. Nice crunchy, flaky exterior. Reminds me of Totino’s Pepperoni Pizza. A product of Canada and not China.
Cons: Damn expensive. Can’t microwave. Number of pieces seem low for something so expensive. For something so small, it’s high in saturated fat. Flaky crumbs. Giving the rent check with your crack addict roommate. Your hoity-toity friends. Making French pastry chefs cry.

Ribs made with Jack Daniel’s barbecue sauce have been gaining some momentum recently, with recipes containing the famous whiskey winning legitimate awards in Southern barbecue competitions. Naturally, T.G.I. Friday’s has to strip the wholesome appeal away and bastardize the crap out of it by having the frightening amalgamation of *NSYNC known as Guy Fieri screaming at you to try them. It’s not just chain restaurants jumping on the boat, though; these ribs have made their way to your local supermarket.

Now you can try the ribs without having to withstand the deafening loudness of T.G.I. Friday’s as a gaggle of drunk frat brah’s hit on your date. It’s better in an intimate setting, on a lazy weekend with the game on. In a way, Jack Daniel’s appeals to the tailgaitin’ Southerner in all of us with these refrigerated boxes of booze-glazed ribs. I’ve been dying to try something that can get me drunk and fat simultaneously. It’s not hedonism – it’s efficiency.

Within eight minutes, you have a pound of real, unprocessed ribs ready to eat as you watch Peyton Manning and Brett Favre sell you TV’s and toothpaste during the increasingly-frequent commercial breaks. That isn’t to say that the ribs don’t have their flaws. Brett Favre spends most of his free time playing jean-football with his buddies in the mud, but even he would find these ribs to be messy.

The meat is fall-off-the-bone tender, which sounds awesome until you try to actually pick up the rib and watch the meat cascade onto the plate. It kind of takes the visceral satisfaction out of eating a rib. When you’re me, you need moments like those to keep you going. And this is going to make me sound like a teenage girl, but the whiskey is really, really strong. I’m not the type to indulge in Smirnoff Ice and Hypnotiq, but these ribs really do taste like they were dunked in a bottle of Jack.

I could lie and tell you that I sucked it up and pounded a few shots of Jack while I was eating, but I ended up dousing the ribs with ketchup and mixing it with the sauce. It was delicious after that. I had completely emasculated myself, but I figured that watching large men in tights jump on top of each other for six straight hours would have done that to me anyway.

(Nutritional Facts – 1/3 box – 500 calories, 30 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 120 mg of cholesterol, 990mg sodium, 31 grams of carbs, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 21 grams of sugar, 25 grams of protein, 2% Vitamin A, 2% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 10% Iron)

Item: Jack Daniel’s Baby Back Ribs
Price: $7.99
Size: 16 ounces
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Real, unprocessed ribs. Tastes awesome when mixed with some ketchup. Sealed and microwaveable in less than ten minutes. Brings together booze and fatty meat in one package.
Cons: Meat falls off the bone by shear force of gravity. Whiskey is overpowering if you are a wuss like me.

After all the rejected advances on women, Fs on my college report cards, cancellation of all the shows Tom Cavanagh has been in, and not achieving my dream of being the The Village People’s leatherman because I could not properly make the letter “C” with my arms, I should be used to disappointment by now. But I am again deeply disappointed by the Wendy’s Spicy Baconator.

I thought the Spicy Baconator would be just as good as the original Wendy’s Baconator with its two hamburger patties, six small strips of bacon, jalapenos, two slices of pepper jack cheese, and chipotle ranch sauce. The jalapenos add a decent amount of heat to the burger, but don’t add any flavor. It’s like Charo without the “Cuchi-Cuchi.”

Wait. Was that too old of a reference?

Anyhoo, without the jalapenos, the burger was pretty bland, not even the chipotle ranch sauce or the bacon could save it, which was disappointing since bacon can usually save anything. Just ask slightly wilted salads, overcooked baked potatoes, and people being chased by cougars or Kirstie Alley.

Oh disappointment! You rain upon me like tears of a little boy who has had their candy taken from them or who have shared a bed with Michael Jackson.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 burger – 880 calories, 55 grams of fat, 24 grams of saturated fat, 2.5 grams of trans fat, 200 milligrams of cholesterol, 1850 milligrams of sodium, 650 milligrams of potassium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 7 grams of sugar, 58 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 15% Vitamin C, 35% Calcium, 40% Iron, and 75% disappointment.)

Item: Wendy’s Spicy Baconator
Price: $6.49 (small combo)
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Spicy. Bacon. Wearing leather. Most shows with Tom Cavanagh.
Cons: Disappointing. 2.5 grams of trans fat. Jalapenos don’t add anything to flavor. Bland without the jalapenos. Sauce was lame. Charo without the “Cuchi-Cuchi.” Being chased by Kirstie Alley.