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.

REVIEW: Fruity Cheerios

Cheerios are enjoyed by so many people and I think the reason why Cheerios are beloved is because there are so many varieties. Just like 24-hour news networks, reality shows, and crazy publicly drunk celebrities to hate, there’s a type of Cheerios for everyone.

The varieties include, Honey Nut Cheerios, Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, Multi-Grain Cheerios, Frosted Cheerios, Berry Burst Cheerios, and Yogurt Burst Cheerios.

Because of all these varieties, Cheerios are adored by children, parents, firefighters, police officers, clowns, stoners, account executives, pimps, college students, financial planners, dog trainers, Oprah audience members, Buddhists, professional lacrosse players, telemarketers, the people who rip your ticket when you enter the movie theater, World of Warcraft players, Bittorrent seeders, fluffers, flight attendants, Hookah bar patrons, bums, street performers, towel boys, and shopping cart retrievers.

The love of Cheerios spreads out to Disneyland employees who wear costumes, backseat drivers, sanitation workers, volunteer art class nude models, NASCAR pit crew window cleaners, daytime strippers, spa treatment hair removal waxers, mechanical engineers, indie band drummers, MAC Cosmetics salespeople, Dungeon Masters, coupon clippers, starving people, Felix the Cat, AOL members, porta-pottie cleaners, big rig drivers, Olympic synchronized swimmer alternates, old folks who greet you at the Wal-Mart entrance, internet porn downloaders, 40-something year old pizza delivery guys, quasi-product review blog editors, crossword puzzle creators, dysfunctional former child stars, Colombian drug traffickers, astronauts, reality show contestant losers, loan defaulters, hip-hop artist entourage members, National Spelling Bee incorrect spellers, old school Reebok Pump wearers, and professional nose hair trimmers.

Despite the numerous groups of people who like Cheerios, there has been a small minority group that has been ignored by Cheerios…zombies. That’s right, the living dead hasn’t liked any of the previous incarnations of Cheerios, but thanks to the new Fruity Cheerios it appears there’s a Cheerios out there that appeals to zombies.

No wonder zombies went around killing people and eating their brains and raw flesh. They didn’t have a Cheerios to call their own.

If you don’t believe that zombies like Fruity Cheerios, check out the back of the Fruity Cheerios box, zombie hater. On the back of the box is one happy zombie, with its yellow skin and white pupils. Believe me, I’ve played enough Resident Evil to know what zombies look like, and that my friends is a zombie on the back of the box.

Who knew that Fruity Cheerios would have the power to turn a bloodthirsty zombie into a happy, smiling zombie? But then again, after trying Fruity Cheerios, I can kind of understand why zombies are happy. It’s not as sweet as Fruity Pebbles or Froot Loops, but Fruity Cheerios is pretty good, thanks to the fact that it’s flavored with real fruit juice.

The colors of Fruity Cheerios were pleasant and bright, and powerful enough to turn the cold, empty heart of a zombie into a heart filled with love, compassion, and twelve essential vitamins and minerals.

I hope they don’t get rid of Fruity Cheerios, because I’m not going to be the one to explain it to the zombies.

(Editor’s Note: Thanks to Tony, Meredith, and all the people who suggested I try Fruity Cheerios. Now I’m going to go kill some zombies with fire so they don’t eat all the Fruity Cheerios.)

Item: Fruity Cheerios
Price: $4.00 (on sale)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Loved by zombies, which prevents them from eating human flesh. Good fruity taste. Nice color. Flavored with real fruit juice. Less sugar than leading fruity cereal. 12 essential vitamins and minerals.
Cons: Not as sweet as Fruity Pebbles or Froot Loops. Pissing off zombies if Fruity Cheerios are discontinued.

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.