For the second year in a row, Pringles released a stupid awesome Thanksgiving kit as an online exclusive. Get a load of their ridiculous Friendsgiving Feast:
The kit features six different crisps, including all of the flavors necessary to create a turducken “stack.” (Hence the monstrous mascot.)
The Friendsgiving Feast sold out in less than an hour, but it was only really on sale for like thirty freakin’ seconds. My story was one of a thousand reloads and about as many open tabs, and even with that level of dedication, I was very lucky to get through.
Lots of folks were ticked, and I don’t blame them. Part of the appeal of these wackadoo releases is that they’re limited, but surely there’s a way to maintain that without deliberately frustrating thousands of your biggest fans. (Maybe they could’ve given away an additional 25-50 kits through a raffle or something? I dunno.)
For what it’s worth, I got mine the real way. These weren’t comped to me by Kellogg’s or anything. I just kept reloading like my life depended on it, because in the moment, it felt like it did. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Read More…
Oh hi! Time to debut Dino Drac’s November Funpack! I’m happy (or is that sad) to report that subscriptions are finally back open for this one, albeit with limited spots. If you dig what you see, scroll to the bottom for ordering info!
UNITED STATES ONLY! LIMITED SUPPLY!
The holidays are coming, and I’m gonna make sure you’re prepared with a whole box of old-and-new yuletide nonsense — including a very special item that’s unlike anything I’ve ever included in a Funpack before!
Funpack subscriptions are $25 a month, and that price includes shipping. For as long as you remain subscribed, you’ll get new boxes of random stuff each and every month. Let’s dive into the loot for November! Read More…
There I was, on our weird couch, lazily paging through the December 1978 issue of Family Circle. (Shut up. It’s how I decompress.)
I love those old holiday magazines. Many are technically before my time, but not really, because my mother kept a stack of them in our old kitchen cabinets. Even well into the ‘90s, I busted ‘em out during every Christmas season. Wheat Thins just tasted better when I ate them while reading recipes for, I dunno, sweet-and-sour chicken drumettes or whatever the fuck.
Anyway, something in that issue of Family Circle made me leap up from the couch and almost directly into the supermarket:
Behold! Gold’n Nut Crunch! This was essentially a way for Golden Grahams to break into the Chex Mix market, which made sense, because I’ve yet to find an issue of any magazine from the late ‘70s that didn’t reference Chex Mix at least 30 times.
But could it really be good? Golden Grahams and cheesy nuts? I needed to know. It was going to cost me 30 bucks, because of course we didn’t have celery salt or parmesan cheese or Golden Grahams or even goddamned butter, but I needed to know.
The answer? Yes. It’s VERY good. Good enough to give you a step-by-step guide! Read More…
It’s that time of year again, when I spend a fortune on old toy catalogs just to tear out the pages, all for your benefit. Let’s look at some of the highlights from Montgomery Ward’s 1985 Christmas catalog!
I didn’t grow up near any Montgomery Ward stores, but their catalogs were basically the same as what Sears and JCPenney published. (So much so, in fact, that I had to be careful not to pick the same toys I covered when reviewing JCPenney’s 1985 catalog.)
I was six years old when this book hit mailboxes, so the toys in these pages were absolutely my shit. Several were things I myself received for Christmas that year, or at least during a surrounding year. I could write about the stuff in this one catalog forever, but I know you have your limits. Let’s settle on 1800 words:
Sectaurs Power Cycle!
Wait, what? There was a SECTAURS POWER CYCLE?! How is it possible that I’d never heard of this, even during my internet years?
For you youngins, Sectaurs was a line of large insectoid action figures that rode even larger battery-operated bugs. I adored those toys. They were the perfect mix of “elegant” and “disturbing.”
Though Sectaurs had all of the accompaniments that ‘80s toy lines needed to survive — a cartoon, a comic book, a giant ass playset — it hardly set the world on fire. Usually, brands didn’t get the “tricycle treatment” until they’d achieved a certain status. Someone made a biiiig bet on Sectaurs, here.
Even more incredible is that this was at least as good as any other Power Cycle, and possibly even cooler. The idea, I guess, was that you were supposed to ignore the wheels and just pretend you were riding a bug. The cycle even had giant, flapping wings! That look of euphoria on the kid’s face? He wasn’t acting. Read More…