I’ve been waiting for Eggo to make “Halloween waffles” for nearly as long as I’ve been doing the Countdown. I guess my feeble attempt to summon them by way of a voodoo crock pot was more effective than I imagined it would be, because finally, THEY ARE HERE.
You know, I’d seen mentions of these over the last few weeks, but I totally forgot to add ’em to my mental checklist. Imagine my surprise to spot them as I strolled through the freezer section of Stop & Shop, searching for frozen raspberries. (If you’ve never experienced a frozen raspberry, do everything in your power to change that. Each one is like a tiny-sized snowcone. I love them so much.)
Right next to the raspberries, there they were: Eggo Seasons “Pumpkin Spice” waffles, in great boxes peppered with pumpkin and cinnamon stick graphics.
Thank God it was late and the place was almost empty, because not even my legendary self-consciousness could keep me from celebrating with what’s best compared to a Penguins of Madagascar dance number. Read More…
I’m in a good mood today.
It’s important to use good moods for good things. I can think of no better way to channel my positivity than by describing fake vomit. On with another edition of Vintage Vending!
Frankenstein’s Spare Parts Collection came out in ’89, though it looks decades older than that. These sorts of toys were more commonly seen during the ‘60s, when monsters and severed body parts were still very much in vogue.
They’re some of the most gruesome vending machine prizes ever, insinuating a parallel universe where tiny people are transformed into dismembered charms, and where puke is treated like diamonds. I wouldn’t want to live in that universe, but it sure is nice to visit.
The crude organization of the prizes looks like the work of a madman. There’s no rhyme or reason to anything’s placement. They didn’t even try to leave the printed face of Frankenstein’s Monster in clear view. (Look closely around the skeleton keychain’s skull. Frank’s near there.)
Between that, the dark colors and the ghoulish prizes, this was Halloween at its purest.
Picture it! Grade school kids trading quarters for bloody brain charms. We can be sure that Frankenstein’s Spare Parts paved way for a rising sense of depravity within yesteryear’s youth. The next time you hear about a thirty-something killing and eating his family, it’s likely that the accused was collecting butchered plastic organs back in 1989. Read More…
A series of unlikely keywords led me to Fishdom Spooky Splash, made by Playrix. It’s an easy game with a Halloween twist, where your goal is to fill a virtual fish tank with all manner of macabre ornaments.
Further research tells me that there are other “Fishdom” games, and that this is just a seasonal spin on the original. I’ve never played the rest, but it seems obvious that the version with a Grim Reaper Shark trumps all others. Read More…
I need to put this scribble here.
It’s a pointless scribble. It contains no hidden messages. It’s literally just a scribble.
I have some Dino Drac hangups that I want to nip in the bud. I just edited this post to remove an explanation of those hangups, because they’re not really relevant to anyone but me. Just know that this scribble is a necessary step.
So, say hi to Mr. Scribble. He’s a quiet scribble, who loves talk radio.
I doubt that more than three of you remember them, but I don’t care. These candy pails, distributed by Mars back in ’89, meant the world to me. Even today, I look at them and see everything good about Halloween.
I can’t remember the specifics of the promotion, but it went something like this: Buy a bag of fun-sized Snickers (or Milky Way, or 3 Musketeers), and you’d go home with one of these glorious buckets. (In all likelihood, you had to buy three or more bags, but the details pale in importance to the end result: MONSTA BUCKETS.)
We’ve all reminisced about McDonald’s famous McBoo pails, and though they deserved every bit of our affections, these were an even cooler spin on the same idea. With pop-off lids and little ropey handles, kids trolled the neighborhood on Halloween night, stuffing their tricks and treats into eleven-inch plastic ghosts with Snickers stickers on them. Bottle that shit, because it was concentrated awesomesauce. Read More…
I don’t know if I’ve led a life worth living, but someday, when there’s nothing left to lose, I’ll have a great story to tell.
FYI: Madd Matt was wrong on a few counts in this video. Technically, Leviathan isn’t from a moon of Saturn, or Jupiter. Leviathan is from Hell.