It’s a dream—err, perhaps a nightmare on Elm Street—come true!
Funko, the maker of those ubiquitous Pop toys who have immortalized nearly every influential pop culture character from Count Chocula to Cap’n Crunch (and a bunch of other non-cereal ones, I guess) in chibi plastic action figure/doll/toy/collectible form, are now entering the cereal game.
Can’t wait to find a shipping container’s worth of them on clearance at FYE next year. Continue reading
Snack to the future!
Unless you’ve been living under a Fraggle Rock, you’ve probably noticed that food and beverage companies are capitalizing on America’s recent wave of nostalgia—a yearning for the ’80s, ’90s, and in the case of Vanilla Milkshake Pop-Tarts, even the early 2000s—brought on by the cruel world we live in now that’s so nonsensical it would nominate Boss Baby for an Oscar.
Yes, from Crystal Pepsi and Oreo O’s to Ecto-Cooler and Chicken Fries, Big Foodstuff has been throwbacking so hard the chiropractic industry has been thriving. The only thing missing now is Planters PB Crisps, the last two pieces of which have been spotted dangling from the back of Mr. Peanut’s Silverado.
And while all those wacky retro fonts and radical blurbs of pandering marketing copy are starting to get old, I support this snack-studded nostalgia trip if it means I keep getting to taste revived old Pop-Tarts like Vanilla Milkshake. Originally released in 2008, Vanilla Milkshake recently re-debuted alongside Strawberry Milkshake, and thanks to my region’s award-winningly slow-to-stock-new-things Walmarts (where Vanilla Milkshake is an exclusive flavor), I only finally found them this week.
So while a budding lactose intolerance keeps me from enjoying real vanilla milkshakes (almond milk, ftw), now I can live vicariously through these frosted ravioli. And yes, that’s the last time I’ll ever make a “Pop-Tarts are ravioli” joke. Continue reading
https://www.instagram.com/p/BgZMuaYDsDL/?hl=en&taken-by=cerealkillercafe
I no longer identify with the gamer ethos of Ready, Player One. Despite my formative days as a Nintendo fiend, my meeker modern day video game exploits toggle between “remembering how great Kirby is” and “casually trying to bring back Words With Friends to try reliving the emotional high of once playing JUICED on a quadruple word score.”
Yet I support the geek-bending film because it has its own cereal—albeit a very exclusive one. Limited to 200 boxes at the U.K.’s Cereal Killer Cafe, Retro Pops are bound to be harder to find than an SNES Mini.
Since I’m an ocean apart from these colorful Pops, I’ll stick to complaining in America until a movie wants to make a cereal with me. The Shape of Watermelon Oat Flakes? Continue reading
Happy Mythological Creatures Day!
What? It’s not fair that the leprechaun gets all the attention on St. Patrick’s Day. People are turning rivers green, eating their weight in pickled cabbage, and drinking enough specialty beverages to leave them dazed (I’m talking post-Shamrock Shake sugar crashes, of course). For a day so absurd by definition, I don’t want to constrain my cryptid celebration to a mischievous little green gnome.
I want Mothman fly-overs with the Blue Angels. I want Chupacabra parades so large the price of goat will skyrocket. I want statues erected to honor Uncle O’Grimacey. And I want to scarf down Kellogg’s new Unicorn Cereal, which has finally hit American shelves after gracing international ones as Unicorn Froot Loops for nearly a year now.
Why Kellogg’s decided to drop “Froot Loops” from the title, I don’t know—maybe Toucan Sam won the copyright battle, claiming the unicorn’s horn is too similar to his beak—but if it means seeing a fresh equine face in the cereal aisle, I’m all for it.
Because where else could people eat unicorns and rainbows for breakfast? No-*cough*literallyrighthere*cough*-where! Continue reading
You have to feel bad for the humble peach.
It’s spent countless millennia and evolutionary paths to become perfectly shaped and juicily flavored for consumption. Yet we buffoonish humans just laugh at it. Because it kind of looks like a fuzzy booty.
Well I’m here to be your champion, my peachy friend. I’m very proud of you for becoming the star of General Mills’ latest limited edition Cheerios variety—a feat I imagine requires multiple levels of American Idol-style performances that would leave lesser fruit crying into their crisper drawers.
Suck it, durian: no one wants prickly, smelly Cheerios.
So now that you’re joining the proud lineage of fruit pyramid-friendly flavors like Strawberry and Pumpkin Spice, no one will be able to mock you any more, or to make you the butt of many jokes. I won’t allow it.
No ifs, ands, or butts. Continue reading
Happy Birthday, Cereal! I made you a milk-filled cake, invited your friends Oatmeal and Toaster Pastry, and even put up your favorite ring-shaped strea—
Wait, you’re telling me National Cereal Day doesn’t commemorate the birth of cereal: the moment so many years ago when a prehistoric oat plant miraculously popped out a Cheerio? Man, I went to the wrong Sunday school.
Regardless, I can’t let this National Cereal Day pass without reviewing something birthday cake flavored. It’s just too convenient that General Mills’ Birthday Cake Cookie Crisp arrived on my doorstep (thanks GM!) just in time for the big day. An odd duck—or at least a lone wolf—of a new cereal, Birthday Cake Cookie crips has ironically debuted with little fanfare or celebration. I was at least expecting a downtown NYC jubilee featuring a giant cookie-shaped cake that some B list celebrity would pop out of.
Now I’ll have to fulfill my dream of seeing Brad Garrett covered in buttercream some other way.
This cereal looks suspiciously similar to both 2009’s Sprinkles Cookie Crisp and 2016’s Holiday Sprinkles Cookie Crisp, but until we get a proper revival of O.G. Vanilla Cookie Crisp—I’m talkin’ bearded Cookie Jarvis and all—I’ll happily give any cake, pastry, muffin, or even donut-flavored Cookie Crisp a try.
The year is 2022: the last known record of humankind.
Following the success of their Magical Unicorn, Jazzy Yeti, and Iridescent Riddle-Telling Sphinx marshmallows, Lucky Charms has decided to keep the cryptozoological marbit trend rolling with a sugar nugget more mythical than ever before: a Technicolor Cthulhu marshmallow!
Predictably, this marshmallow becomes too ornately psychoactive—too destructively beautiful—instantly vaporizing any who see it with its multi-folded, granulated power. The end of civilization naturally follows.
Grim, I know, but that deadly premonition is years away. We should rejoice while we can, because Lucky Charms’ newest Magical Unicorn is a gorgeous harbinger of breakfast doom. It also marks a very strange shift in Lucky Charms’ ethos: just a year or two ago, General Mills was so committed to removing artificial colors that they turned the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles—veritable icons of neon ’80s excess—into pallid reptile droppings (that still tasted good, mind you).
There were even reports that Lucky Charms would lose its artificial colors too, by the end of 2017 or so, leading tinfoil-hat conspiracists like me to predict last year’s Mixed-Up Marshmallow Cereal were conditioning cereal lovers to accept color changes. But after the milk-splashing cannonball of a flop that was all natural Trix, GM seems to have abandoned this ideal, bringing back Trix and introducing this very very artificially colored unicorn marshmallow, finally acquiescing to the ravenous demands of inner children everywhere.
Because the best news is that the Magical Unicorn is a permanent addition to the Lucky Charms family, replacing the youngest of the brood: the hourglass. I’d like to see how the Unicorn explains the ‘glass’ absence to the rest of the sugary fam, but I’m sure it can just say he’s “having the time of his life at a farm upstate.” Continue reading
