Dinosaur Dracula!

Crazy Holiday Pringles!

Pringles. A brand of ultrathin potato crisps, sold in canisters that convert nicely into coin banks. All of you already knew this.

According to the ad slogan, “once you pop, the fun don’t stop.” Until recently, that was probably true. Even the worst Pringles flavor was still pretty good, and besides, they’re just so much fun to eat. Especially if you know the “Pringles Trick.”

What, you don’t? Allow me to explain.

The “Pringles Trick” is when you take a Pringle and wedge it lengthwise into your mouth, in front of your teeth. That’s Part 1, and at the end of Part 1, you should look like a mutant alien with a Pringle for a mouth.

Part 2 is even better. In Part 2, you take the middle finger on your right hand (I don’t know why it has to be your right hand, but it does), and use it to “flick” through the lip-trapped Pringle. The effect is similar in sensation to a karate champion smacking through a pile a wood. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but just wait until you try it. Prepare to clear your calendar.

Well, look at that. Barring an aside about the Common Merganser (that’s a duck), I could not have possibly gone more off-track. I apologize. It’s not easy to map out Pringles reviews. You kinda just dive in and see what happens. Sometimes, you hit your head on the ocean floor, and die on the spot. You are seeing exactly that unfold at this precise moment.

The point was that the old Pringles slogan no longer rings true. “Once you pop, the fun don’t stop.” Here, it’s quite the opposite. Virtually all of the fun is in the pre-pop era.

These are a disaster. They’re holiday edition Pringles, in “Cinnamon & Sugar” and “White Chocolate Peppermint” flavors.

If I’m not coming in loud and clear: CANDY CANE POTATO CHIPS.

(The red text indicates “caution,” not “Christmas.”)

But I must remind you that disasters can be beautiful. Consider volcanoes. Capable of killing thousands with a single blow, and yet, when they’re not killing people, we celebrate them as we do rainbows.

These Pringles are a beautiful disaster, and I commend Kellogg’s for taking such a risk. I know Kellogg’s likes to hide behind the curtain and act like Pringles exists as a totally distinct entity fronted by a man with a Rollie Fingers mustache, but this time, I think they deserve the direct credit. Read More…

Christmas Stickers / Ugly Sweater.

There’s a big new feature up, covering fifteen treasures from the 1992 Sears Wish Book!

Golden Ninja Turtles! Crayon-shaped fish tanks! Clarinets! And more!

GO READ IT NOW!

This post only exists to draw attention to the Wish Book feature, but you know how I hate to waste space. So, take a look at my new stickers: Read More…

Snow Day!

Hello there, Giant Surprise Snowstorm. I shall pay tribute to you with cocoa dust and tiny marshmallows:

It’s still snowing as I write this. This is no bullshit storm, either. These are big flakes, and they’re actually sticking.

I love snowstorms, even if now isn’t the time for one. My city is far from recovered from Sandy, and I should not be asking God for more of his ethereal dandruff. This snow is obviously going to make a tough situation worse for so many neighbors. On the other hand, if I donate $50 to the Red Cross, that’s probably penance enough for enjoying it.

There isn’t going to be some big arc to this post. I just wanted to “archive” the moment, since there’s no guarantee that it’ll snow again before Christmas. This could be my one chance to make like Calvin before 2013. For about fifteen minutes earlier tonight, I did just that. Read More…

“How’s the turtle, Mrs. Stubbs?”

If you’ve never seen My Blue Heaven, please don’t take that as a cue to skip this post. This is less about an old movie and more about RIDICULOUSLY CUTE BABY TURTLES, and only a fool would miss those.

…but of course, since I so rarely get the opportunity to do so, let me at least make mention of what a ridiculously great movie My Blue Heaven is. Steve Martin hamming it up as a mobster in the witness protection program. Rick Moranis as the straight-laced FBI agent, in his best role outside of Spaceballs. (Yep, I even put his work here above the Ghostbusters movies. Merengue > Melnitz?)

Released in 1990, it’s one of those films you can watch a thousand times and still love just as much. Every last line is just so utterly quotable, and I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to prove that. “You’re wrinkling your pants” is still my go-to non sequitur whenever I need to end a line of questioning.

But above all of the movie’s other triumphs was its inclusion of RIDICULOUSLY CUTE BABY TURTLES. This is the story about how about ten seconds of big screen reptiles kicked off a lifelong fascination and an untapped lust. Read More…