You’ve all heard of Count Chocula, Franken Berry and Boo Berry. The “Monster Cereals.” Many of us grew up on them. Those who didn’t can at least count on ‘em to turn up every Halloween season, in progressively smaller boxes at progressively higher prices.

But among the trio’s fans are a more dedicated group of super fans. People who don’t just “like” Count Chocula, but need to buy several Count Chocula bobbleheads. I’m one of those people. People like us enjoy the cereals much like anyone else would, but we’re even bigger on the lore. The history.

For starters, there’s a pair of extinct monster cereals.

Fruit Brute debuted in 1974. It was a colorful blend of fruit-flavored cereal, fronted by a werewolf who wore rainbow-striped overalls. I guess there was too much competition from Trix and Froot Loops, because the cereal lasted less than a decade.

But General Mills is a stubborn beast. By 1988, they were ready for Round 2. Fruity Yummy Mummy was basically the same as Fruit Brute, except for the mascot: A mummy wrapped in multicolored bandages. Fruity Yummy Mummy was not a major success, and by 1993, General Mills finally gave up on a “generically fruity” Monster Cereal.

Empty boxes of Fruit Brute and Fruity Yummy Mummy cost small fortunes on the collectors’ market, which drives me nuts, as I distinctly remember a shady local deli selling Fruity Yummy Mummy well into the late ‘90s. (Shady delis do not always abide by expiration dates. I found cans of early ‘80s Pac-Man Pasta at one, and that was in May of 2000.)

I should’ve stockpiled some of that cereal. Damn.

Now, nothing I’ve written so far will come as a surprise if you know anything about Monster Cereals. For uncommon people, this is common knowledge. But what if I told you that there was actually a SIXTH Monster Cereal, so rare that I could only find one single photo of it online? Read More…

It’s time for the second edition of The Popsicle Parade!

In Part 1, I beat you over the head with ten different historically significant desserts. This time, I’ll be gentler to us both and only cover five. Moving forward with #11-15!

#11: Screwball!

If you’ve never heard of this, you haven’t spent much time pawing at ice cream truck windows. There are many variations to the Screwball, with the only consistent trait being an inedible, conical cup. But the kind shown above is the true classic.

That Screwball was/is a cone filled with super sugary water ice, usually flavored like raspberry or cherry. (Raspberry more often; cherry when the gods were smiling upon you.) Absolutely delicious. Like an Italian ice, but a bit softer and way sweeter.

The real attraction was the gumball. At the very bottom of the plastic cone, a frigid gumball waited for its excavation. Trapped under ice for God knows how long, these gumballs developed a mouthfeel completely apart from their room temperature cousins.

They were like indestructible snowballs, imbued with artificial flavors. Yeah, those flavors were frost-paled and never lasted long, but by that point, you’d already eaten a whole cone of syrupy water ice. Really, you were only chewing the gum because the whole point of a Screwball was to find the gum.

These victories netted no trophies, but we were still proud. Read More…

I made the mistake of trying to tidy up my office.

It’s always a mistake! My entire life exists as a series of boxes and bins. Once I start going through those, there’s no end to the madness. What was only meant to be a gentle reorganization has transformed my sanctuary into an imploded pawn shop.

I’m desperately trying to restore order, but everything I do only makes things worse. I’ll try to consolidate two boxes into one, but all that does is spread the contents of both boxes across my floor, with the items so impossibly scattered that I still think unseen ghosts are ribbing me.

Maybe everyone goes through this, but not everyone has the kinds of things I do. Truth be told, there’s just no perfect spot for a three foot inflatable Kool-Aid Man.

All I can do is keep stacking things until I’ve at least made paths the necessary spots. Right now, I can get from the door to my computer desk, but if I want to reach the air conditioner, I’ll need to climb over:

– The Dinosaur Dracula Christmas statue.
– A 30” “Tiffany” doll from Bride of Chucky.
– A box that once held the very air conditioner I’d be trying to get to, but now holds four dozen empty soda cans.
– And so much more!

The bright side? I’m rediscovering so many treasures. I’m a collector of everything. I can’t keep track of it all. I don’t even remember how I came to own some of these things. It’s like they just appeared from nowhere. Maybe “old crap” reproduces sexually? When I’m not looking, my empty can of Pac-Man Pasta mates with Metroplex, and later births a litter of Lazer Tag party plates?

I’ll use this short break from cleaning to rattle off some of my finer finds: Read More…