REVIEW: Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal

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.

REVIEW: Honey Kix

Kix has always been one of those cereals that have puzzled me. It’s one of those cereals that makes me wonder why it’s still on store shelves because, frankly, it’s as tasty as a wet hobo’s home. I used to think that way about Rice Krispies too, but then realized that its production is probably still going thanks to people who makes homemade Rice Krispies Treats and those who use it to absorb liquid spills.

My dislike for regular Kix was the reason why I was skeptical about the new Honey Kix. It would take a lot for me to like Kix and adding honey might not be enough to do it because you can put a sheep’s clothing on a wolf and it’s still a wolf and you can put a beard on Spencer Pratt and he’s still an asshole. What also made me pessimistic about Honey Kix was the fact that, just like the original Kix, it’s “Kid-Tested, Mother-Approved.”

“Kid-Tested” is such a vague term. Sure, they gave it to kids and they might’ve all hated it or they might’ve all loved it, but there’s no way to know what those children were thinking with the open-ended phrase, “Kid-Tested.” At one point, kids might’ve liked Kix, perhaps back in 1937, when it was introduced. But, of course, kids would like it back then because they didn’t have much of a choice. There wasn’t enough variety to have a cereal aisle. It was just a cereal corner.

What I want to know is, how often do they do these tests?

I hope they do it often because kids likes and dislikes are so fickle. If they need someone to do more tests, I could do it because I understand the basics of experimentation thanks to college chemistry and watching Mythbusters. All I need is a kid to be a control subject who eats only Kix and a bunch of other kids to be subjects that aren’t controls who will be eating cereals that will make the control subject jealous. Although, now that I think about it, it will be difficult to do this testing since I’m pretty sure having a 33-year-old man entice children to his “laboratory” with promises of delicious cereal is illegal in most, if not all, countries.

I ended up using myself as a test subject with the Honey Kix. The first thing I noticed about the latest Kix is that it’s much more yellow in color than regular Kix. Then I noticed it stayed crunchy in milk for a decent amount of time. Its taste was definitely sweeter than original Kix and it had a slight honey flavor that made the cereal sort of taste like Cookie Crisp, except without the chocolate. But it’s flavor won’t satisfy those who love their sugary cereals that either come with marshmallows or colors that don’t occur in nature.

After all my experiments, I’ve come to the conclusion that Honey Kix is better than original Kix. So consider it, “Marvo-Tested, Marvo-Approved!”

(Nutrition Facts – 1.25 cups – 120 calories, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 230 milligrams of sodium, 70 milligrams of potassium, 28 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, 19 grams of other carbohydrates, 2 grams of protein, and lots of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Honey Kix
Price: $5.99
Size: 12 ounces
Purchased at: Foodland
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Sweeter than original Kix. Sort of tastes like Cookie Crisp without the chocolate. Provides 16 grams of whole grain. No high fructose corn syrup. 3 grams of dietary fiber. A bunch of vitamins and minerals. No artificial flavors or preservatives. Mythbusters. Using Rice Krispies to absorb liquids.
Cons: Taste won’t satisfy those who love sugary cereals. “Kid-Tested” is vague term. Enticing children to a “laboratory” with promises of delicious cereal. The asshole-ness of Spencer Pratt. The fickleness of children.

REVIEW: Fiber One Chocolate Fudge Toaster Pastry

Dear Tim Kang,

You don’t know me, but if you look in the mirror, you will know what I look like. According to numerous co-workers and people I don’t know, I look like you. No, I do not work at a beer testing facility, opium farm, or Tim Kang clone factory. Ever since the TV show The Mentalist, which you play a supporting role in, starting showing on CBS on Tuesdays, the number of people who think I look like you has been on the rise, like the roll call of Hugh Hefner’s ex-girlfriends. Actually, the comparisons started before you even began playing California Bureau of Investigations agent Kimball Cho.

It all started when someone mentioned I looked like that Asian guy with the Asian family from the Home Depot commercial. At first, I thought that person was crazy with a capital Amy Winehouse, because a commercial with only Asians in it was just something that didn’t exist. Caucasians? Of course. Hispanics? Si? African-Americans? Yes. Asian? I didn’t expect a national American television commercial with only Asians until the year 2033, after China takes over the world. However, after searching YouTube, I saw the commercial with you in it.

Then a few folks said I look like the Asian guy in the Cingular commercials, which also happened to be you.

After watching the commercials, a few minutes of The Mentalist, and this short video you starred in, I thought it was just another case of people thinking all Asians look alike, but when I saw the picture of you below, it changed my mind and made me believe that you are my celebrity doppleganger.

Oh, by the way. No one mentioned that I looked like En-Joo in the last Rambo movie, which I’m sure you played wonderfully.

It’s like you’re the Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tarts and I’m the Fiber One Chocolate Fudge Toaster Pastries, because while we may look alike, you’re well known like Pop-Tarts, since The Mentalist gets 15 million viewers per week, while I’m a Z-List internet celebrity that many people don’t know about, much like the new Fiber One toaster pastries.

Of course, the differences don’t stop there. While you have degrees from Berkeley and Harvard, I have a piece of paper that says I graduated with an English degree from the University of Hawaii, which is much like comparing the sweet, chocolatey, and delicious taste of the Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tarts with the not equally as impressive, but good enough taste of the Fiber One Chocolate Fudge Toaster Pastries.

Also, while you spent months in Moscow to study acting, it took me a few seconds to learn about you on the internet, which is similar to comparing the amount of time it would take to poop with the less than one gram of dietary fiber in a Pop-Tart with the speed it would take to poop with the five grams of dietary fiber a Fiber One toaster pastry has, which is 20 percent of your daily value of fiber.

However, we might be more alike than I realize. After all, we’ve never met. Just like the Pop-Tarts and Fiber One toaster pastries both have high fructose corn syrup and roughly the same nutritional values, maybe you enjoy spying on your neighbors across the street with a pair of Bushnell binoculars and a parabolic microphone, like I do. Or maybe you enjoy laying in front of a mirror and brushing a slightly exaggerated nude self-painting, much like I love doing on warm spring nights.

Well I hope that this letter to you ends up as the top search query whenever you or someone else decides to Google your name or the phrase, “cute Asian guy in The Mentalist.” Perhaps someday we can meet or switch lives.

Sincerely,

Marvo

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories, 4 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat, 1 gram polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 140 milligrams of potassium, 36 grams of carbs, 5 grams of dietary fiber, 16 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, and 6% iron.)

Item: Fiber One Chocolate Fudge Toaster Pastry
Price: $3.49
Size: 6 pastries
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Doesn’t taste like cardboard. Decent tasting. 5 grams of fiber per pastry. 16 grams of whole grain. I look like Tim Kang. Spying on neighbors. Creating a slightly exaggerated nude self-painting.
Cons: Not as sweet or as chocolatey as the Pop-Tarts version. Contains high fructose corn syrup. Has same nutritional values as regular Pop-Tarts. Tim Kang looks like me.

REVIEW: Cocoa Puffs Combos

I thought the idea of going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs was preposterous, like the belief that eating Trix will turn you into a prostitute. For years, I ate the brown balls of naturally and artificially flavored sweetened corn cereal and nothing ever happened to me. There was no bouncing off walls, no instantaneous urges to hump mailboxes, no desire to walk around in nothing but a coconut bra and grass skirt, no yearning for yogurt baths, and no longing to stalk an F-list celebrity and become them by wearing their skin like a coat, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs, “I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!”

However, that changed one morning while partaking in a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and skim milk. I don’t know whether it was the whole grains in it or the fact I was eating it out of a bowl I made in the seventh grade that was coated in a lead-based glaze, but I suddenly went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. One moment I was eating cereal and then the next moment I was dancing around my apartment in what I believe was a homemade cosplay outfit made out of wax paper, food coloring, cardboard boxes and a strategically placed wash cloth. Ever since that episode, I’ve stayed away from Cocoa Puffs, which disappointed me since I <3 Cocoa Puffs and the chocolatey milk it makes.

However, the folks at General Mills recently introduced a cereal called Cocoa Puffs Combos, which has not only naturally and artificially flavored chocolate cereal, but also naturally and artificially flavored vanilla cereal. I thought this was my opportunity to enjoy Cocoa Puffs again, albeit with a vanilla chaser that I hoped would lessen the cuckoo side effects. Take a look at the video below to see how that went.

Obviously, with the addition of the vanilla cereal, the Cocoa Puffs Combos was significantly less chocolatey than regular Cocoa Puffs. However, it wasn’t just the vanilla cereal causing this, which by the way, hardly had any vanilla flavor. The Cocoa Puffs Combos chocolate cereal wasn’t even being close to being as chocolatey as the cereal in regular Cocoa Puffs. It’s like the white vanilla cereal was keeping the brown chocolate cereal down.

Overall, the Cocoa Puffs Combos was disappointing because I expected it to be a little more chocolatey than it was and it didn’t lessen the effects of Cocoa Puffs to a non-embarrassing level. Not even the milk was worth drinking and every time I don’t drink my cereal milk, a dairy cow cries milk from its udder. Chocolate and vanilla may go great together as soft serve ice cream flavors or as a metaphor for interracial dating, but doesn’t do very well in this cereal.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 110 calories, 1.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 40 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 11 grams of other carbohydrates, 1 gram of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to the TIB reader who suggested we review Cocoa Puffs Combos. The reader didn’t leave their name, so no two seconds of internet fame for them.)

Item: Cocoa Puffs Combos
Price: $5.99
Size: 11.7 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Good for those who don’t like sweet cereal. Vitamins and minerals. Soft serve swirl. Regular Cocoa Puffs and the chocolatey milk it makes. Doesn’t make me cuckoo enough to do something REALLY embarrassing, just slightly embarrassing.
Cons: Not as chocolatey as I hoped. Less chocolate didn’t lessen the effects of Cocoa Puffs to a non-embarrassing level. Chocolate cereal was mediocre compared with regular Cocoa Puffs. Vanilla cereal wasn’t very vanilla. Going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Me dancing in a dress and posting it on YouTube for the world to see.

Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters

Eating the new Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal makes me feel a little more mature, since it doesn’t have either chocolate, marshmallows, or commercials on Nickolodeon. When I eat it in the morning, I close my eyes and imagine myself enjoying it at the dining table while reading the editorial page of my local newspaper, rolling my eyes at the crazy people who take the time to jump on their soapbox and write a Letter to the Editor to voice their opinion about how a pothole in front of their driveway proves that the local government is ineffective. Then I respond by asking why the writer of the letter doesn’t call the fucking pothole hotline, which was set up by the local government.

Then I imagine apologizing to my two imaginary elementary-aged children for saying the word “fucking” out loud in front of them, tell them that they shouldn’t use that word in school, and then plead with them to not tell their mommy I said the word “fucking.” Since my children are as cunning as me and my imaginary wife are, they will probably ask for certain toys in return for being silent about the profanity. I tell them that they were both accidents, but I agree to their demands if they also let me cut them out of my will.

I ask them if either of them knows what a will is and they both shake their heads, but they agree to the deal.

The Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters is only part of my imaginary complete balanced mature breakfast. I’m also enjoying half a grapefruit with a little Splenda sprinkled on top, two pieces of whole wheat toast with Smart Balance spread, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. My children are each enjoying half a papaya and slightly burnt waffles with sloppily-poured syrup that I prepared in my “Mr. Mom” apron. They fight over the syrup and then complain to me about it. I explain to them that sharing is important and that mommy and daddy share things all the time, like shampoo, soap, and the leather strap swing in our bedroom. I also tell them if they don’t share, they’re going to have to eat dry waffles next time and I’m going to force them to watch CBS sitcoms.

They scream “NO” and decide to share.

Despite being in milk for a few minutes, the dense, lightly sweetened wheat and bran flakes in the Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters are decently still crunchy. The clusters add a lot more crunch to the cereal and the plump raisins add extra sweetness. It smells like Golden Grahams, but it’s not an overly sweet tasting cereal. It’s also not CBS-sitcom dry and boring. I’m surprised about how good it tastes, since usually most things that have a lot of fiber in them taste very “earthy,” or in other words, like dirt, twigs, and tie-dye-wearing hippies who live in a forest.

A serving of Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal provides me with over 40 percent of the 25 grams of fiber I should consume each day, which is good because when I’m fifty years old and a camera gets shoved up my ass during my colonoscopy, all the fiber I consumed will hopefully make everything up there okay. I’m also hoping that if I eat enough fiber, I can make paper out of my poop, like they do with elephant and panda droppings.

My wife enters the kitchen and she’s looking hot in her business suit. She grabs a piece of toast from my plate, takes a bite out of it, puts it back on the plate, kisses me on the cheek, leaving crumbs stuck to it, and then thanks me for letting her sit in the leather strap swing last night. Then she grabs my glass of orange juice, takes a swig, leaves a lipstick mark on the lip of the glass, and then out loud wishes that she didn’t brush her teeth before drinking orange juice. The children laugh, but I want to jump her bones so badly because there’s something about her in a suit that really makes me horny.

When one of my children asks me, “Daddy, what does ‘horny’ mean? Are you a unicorn?” I wish I had an internal monologue in my daydreams. I tell my children that “Horny” is a unicorn and it’s the reason why they’re both here today. I also promise to give them more toys if they don’t mention that to mommy and I don’t have to pay for their college educations.

They agree because my daughter says she’s going to be the next Paris Hilton and not have to do any work or have any skills, while my son says he’s going to be Anakin Skywalker, turn goth, and wear black everywhere he goes.

Sure, the Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters cereal totally looks like a clusterfuck of Raisin Bran, Honey Bunches of Oats, and All-Bran cereals, but it’s a sweet, delicious clusterfuck.

“Daddy, what’s a clusterfuck?”

(Nutritional Facts Per Serving: 170 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, no cholesterol, 260 milligrams of sodium, 330 milligrams of potassium, 45 grams of carbs, 11 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, 21 grams of other carbohydrates, and a variety of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Fiber One Raisin Bran Clusters
Price: FREE
Purchased at: Received from PR firm
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Really good. Smells like Golden Grahams. Over 40% daily value of fiber. Sweet, but not too sweet. Crunchy. Paper made out of poop. How hot my imaginary wife looks in a business suit. Having a leather strap swing in the bedroom.
Cons: Accidently broadening my imaginary children’s vocabulary. Not having internal dialogue in my daydreams. Clusters can sometimes get stuck in between teeth. Sitcoms on CBS. It’s all a daydream. Crazy people who write Letters to the Editor because they have nothing better to do. Dry waffles. My Mr. Mom apron.