REVIEW: Burger King Lucky Charms Shake

Burger King Lucky Charms Shake

What have you done with my beloved Lucky Charms cereal, Burger King?

I mean, on paper, the Lucky Charms Shake looks like a great idea because I LOVE Lucky Charms and I like fast food shakes that can’t legally be called “milkshakes.” But its execution makes me want to cause physical harm to The King. And in between each violent blow I want say a word from the following sentence: You made Lucky Charms NOT magically delicious, and while I’m venting and have your attention, fix your damn lettuce.

Burger King Lucky Charms Shake 2

From afar it looks like a regular vanilla shake. But a closer look shows specks of colorful marshmallow bits in an ocean of off-white. Also floating in the soft serve are Lucky Charms oat cereal pieces. I guess if the colorful marshmallow bits are the treasure in an ocean of off-white, then the oat cereal pieces are the wreckage of sunken ships.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of wreckage and they’re larger than the marshmallow bits. They’re small enough that they don’t clog the straw and in almost every suck there’s a soggy chunk or two.

Burger King Lucky Charms Shake 4

But no one eats Lucky Charms for the oat pieces. It’s all about THE Lucky Charms.

I want to feel the squish of the marshmallows as I chomp on them. I want them to stick to my teeth. I want them to make me see rainbows and yell, “I’M GOING LOCO FOR LUCKY CHARMS!”

But I don’t get any of that.

Burger King Lucky Charms Shake 3

Those specks of color give the appearance of marshmallows, but adds nothing in term of flavor or texture. So the best part of Lucky Charms cereal isn’t highlighted in this legally not a milkshake.

Even though it’s made with a “marshmallow cereal flavored syrup,” it doesn’t remind me of the colorful Lucky Charms. Maybe the soft serve’s flavor muddles it, after all vanilla and marshmallow can have similar flavor profiles.

I wish it was topped with more marshmallows and a rainbow-colored straw would’ve been a nice touch. The former would’ve helped make the shake less soggy oats heavy, and the latter would’ve helped bring a smile to my face.

Soggy Oats Cereal Shake has a nice ring to its name, but that’s not what I want with this Lucky Charms Shake.

(Nutrition Facts – 740 calories, 17 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 580 milligrams of sodium, 129 grams of carbohydrates, 107 grams of sugar, and 17 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $4.99*
Size: 16 oz.
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Cereal pieces don’t clog up straw. Lucky Charms cereal. Okay when there weren’t oat pieces.
Cons: From afar it looks like a vanilla shake. It’s the Soggy Oats Cereal Shake. Marshmallow bits don’t add flavor or texture. Violence directed at fast food mascots.

*Because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, things are a bit pricier here. You’ll probably pay less than I did.

Winter Lucky Charms

Green clovers? Blue moons? Purple horseshoes? Red balloons? Brown mushrooms?

I don’t know what Lucky the Leprechaun has been smoking, but I do know that I don’t want any of it.

Now that I think about it, maybe the kids chasing him aren’t after his Lucky Charms, they’re after his stash of whatever he’s been smoking. Or maybe the kids chasing Lucky the Leprechaun are just drug-induced hallucinations.

Anyway, the reason why I question Lucky the Leprechaun’s “extra-curricular” activities is because of the marshmallows in Winter Lucky Charms.

With regular Lucky Charms there are red balloons, blue moons, purple horseshoes, rainbows, pink hearts, etc, and they all look like what they’re supposed to represent.

However, with the marshmallows in Winter Lucky Charms, they look like Lucky the Leprechaun was either on an acid trip, in a dervish mood, or had something else on his mind, like a hot date, wondering whether his pot of gold was safe, or he needed to take a massive dump, but hates to use public restrooms.

Whatever it was, the marshmallows in Winter Lucky Charms don’t look so winter-ish. But they do look like other things (see chart below as reference – click pic for larger view).

The “pine tree” marshmallows don’t even come close to looking like an actual pine tree. Car fresheners shaped like pine trees come much closer than these. However, if you turn the “pine tree” marshmallow on its side, it totally looks like a glob of minty fresh toothpaste.

The “stocking” marshmallow is probably the worst of them all. First off, maybe I didn’t get the memo on this, but when did yellow become a “holiday” color. Also, I don’t know of anyone who has yellow stockings, except Big Bird. However, his entire wardrobe is yellow. To me, the yellow “stocking” looks more like an upside down rubber duckie.

The “candy cane” marshmallow maybe shaped like a candy cane, but it looks likes the red lines were painted by some psycho serial killer with nervous system problems, who likes to paint with the blood of their victims. Personally, I think the “candy cane” marshmallow looks like uncooked bacon.

As for the “snowman” marshmallow, where’s the corncob pipe, button nose, two eyes made out of coal, and tighty whitey underwear? Whitney Houston and I both believe that the “snowman” marshmallows look like pieces of crack cocaine, and Whitney would like to know how much they are?

The “ornament” marshmallows don’t really look like anything, but the closest thing I think they look like are bloody cotton swabs that someone might’ve gotten from sticking them a little to far into an orifice.

If the “wreath” marshmallow had a hole in the center of it, it might’ve looked like a wreath, but instead it looks like Oscar the Grouch’s girlfriend, Grungetta Grunge.

Finally, the “present” marshmallow doesn’t really come close to looking like a present. However, it does come really close to looking like a Gay Pikachu.

Despite the marshmallows not looking like what they’re supposed to, Winter Lucky Charms tastes just like regular Lucky Charms. However, I think there should’ve been a Scrooge-shaped marshmallow in the box, because the 11.75-ounce box of Winter Lucky Charms is smaller than the smallest regular Lucky Charms box, which is 14-ounces.

So not only is Lucky the Leprechaun a dope head, he’s also a cheap bastard.

(Editor’s Note: Bah! Lord Jezo has beaten me again. Go read his review of Winter Lucky Charms here.


Item: Winter Lucky Charms
Purchase Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
Pros: Marshmallows. Tastes just like regular Lucky Charms. Marshmallows.
Cons: Slightly smaller box than regular Lucky Charms. Marshmallow don’t look like what they’re supposed to. A high Lucky the Leprechaun. A high Whitney Houston.

REVIEW: Chocolate Lucky Charms

Chocolate Lucky Charms

Over the years, I’ve probably eaten my body weight in Lucky Charms. Also, I’m probably at my current body weight because of Lucky Charms.

Nevertheless, it’s probably one of my favorite cereals of all time, not only because of its marshmallow goodness, but also because I believe there’s a slim chance that Lucky Charms will someday bring me good luck.

With all the Lucky Charms I’ve eaten, I’m expecting enough luck to last me for the rest of my life. Oh how great it would be to have that much luck.

I imagine a life where I would find twenty dollar bills on the ground every day, hit a jackpot on each slot machine lever I pull, marry a supermodel/doctor, and sleep on the finest leopard-print Chinese silk sheets around.

Now I have to admit, I wanted that luck to come to me soon, because I didn’t know how long I could keep eating Lucky Charms. When you’ve eaten your body weight’s worth of it, you tend to get tired of them, including all the green clovers, purple horseshoes, blue moons, rainbows, and whatever other marshmallows they have.

However, this boredom with Lucky Charms stopped, while shopping at the national grocery store chain I usually shop at. There I saw the most titillating thing I’ve ever seen. It was so heavenly that you should’ve seen my eyes light up, like a teenage boy flipping through an issue of Playboy that he stole from his father’s “secret” stash, when my eyes gazed upon the boxes of Chocolate Lucky Charms on the shelf.

I picked up the box and stared at it, like I had found the Holy Grail of Cereals. Then I turned the box over and read in big, bold letters, “The Secret is Out!”

Then I thought, “Secret? Out? Holy crap! Lucky the Leprechaun is GAY!”

Chocolate Lucky Charms

Well I read the rest of it and it turns out that he’s not, but my gaydar says he is. Come on, rainbow marshmallows?

So what’s Chocolate Lucky Charms?

Imagine combining the marshmallows from Lucky Charms with the cereal part from Count Chocula. That delicious combination gives us Chocolate Lucky Charms, or what I’m now calling, “Heaven in a Bowl.”

It’s so good, I can’t contain myself.

Oh my goodness, the marshmallows!

Oh my goodness, the chocolatey milk!

Oh my goodness, why didn’t they come up with it sooner?

Oh my goodness, I ate a whole frickin’ box in two days!

Oh, those geniuses at General Mills. I would kiss them all on the lips, if they were all in my room, if I weren’t munching on a mouthful of Chocolate Lucky Charms, and if they were all women.

But for that to happen, I’d have to be lucky.

Item: Chocolate Lucky Charms
Purchase Price: $2.50 (on sale)
Rating: 10 out of 10
Pros: DAMN good. Made with whole grain. Chocolatey milk. Marshmallows.
Cons: No luck, despite the pounds of Lucky Charms I’ve eaten. Why didn’t they come up with this idea sooner? Lucky the Leprechaun is still in the closet.