Man, so I'm looking at the Macy's Parade that I'll be reviewing sometime before Thanksgiving...and it really sucks. I may have to spice up the article with some odd additives just so we can stay on the level of the previous parade reviews. Perhaps it's time to finally unleash my stuffed mushroom recipe. Maybe baby artichokes?
Finally, Kellogg's has taken advantage of the uber-customizability of their Pop Tarts brand with an honest-to-goodness holiday edition. New "Gingerbread" Pop-Tarts are brown, limited edition and filled with the same kind of frosting that you'd normally find atop a Cinnabon. I don't usually "do" Pop-Tarts, but I'll make an exception for anything that comes in a snowflake-laden wintery box with a smiling gingerbread boy in the corner. Package your personal excrement in such fashion, and I'll pay a premium.
When I put the Pop-Tarts into the toaster, the heavenly, cookie-esque scent immediately filled the air, replacing our apartment's usual ambiance of stale smoke in seconds. I've covered plenty of special edition Pop-Tarts in the past, but Kellogg's went through a particular amount of trouble to make these feel/smell/look/taste really different. If you're sick of so many "special edition" Pop-Tarts falling under the same tired umbrella of neon-colored fruit slime filling, these are a breath of fresh, gingerbready air.
Though I don't think they really needed the extra boost, Kellogg's has also provided the Pop-Tarts with a variety of fifty different edible images, mainly featuring a family of gingerbread people in different wintery poses. The gingerbread people are strangely humanoid and kind of creepy, looking less like anthropomorphic cookies and more like pumpkin-headed demons in ski outfits. Then again, that's pretty cool and I'm not sure why I'm complaining about it.
The flavor of gingerbread cookies is something you really had to grow up on to appreciate. I didn't, so I don't, but luckily, Kellogg's dumbed down the usual gingerbread sting with a flavor a little less biting. To keep the nutritional value of these Pop-Tarts from growing too alarming, the inner layer of gooey frosting isn't quite as sugary as you might expect it to be. It's kind of a trade: You'll make a less orgasmic face while eating them, but you won't have to feel as guilty afterwards.
From Pop-Tarts to Potato Heads, meet Santa Spud, a deliciously Christmassy Mr. Potato Head toy. Giving Mr. PH a bunch of Santa parts is not a new endeavor, but I really love the way they've gone about packaging him this year. Santa Spud arrives in an oversized blister-pack, which lets you enjoy his beauty without actually having to open him. Of course, you'll never have an awesomely avant-garde Santa Potato Head unless you do. It amazes me that even after all of these years, it's still a riot to put Mr. Potato Head's arms where his nose should be. Well, a riot on the inside, at least. Can't claim that I was rolling on the floor with laughter. On the other hand, I am a joyless truckermomma.
Click here for a closer look at the packaged Santa Spud, and make note of the great "to" and "from" label in the upper right corner. Love it. I'm a big proponent of having some gifts under the tree that aren't wrapped, mainly because of the gift-opening scene from A Christmas Story. There's just something nice and wholesome about it, and anytime I can apply such adjectives to a stupid Potato Head is pretty cool.
While I'm here: Thanks for the feedback on the Wishbook article, which has some pretty good momentum going at the moment. Keep adding your unrequited toy lusts to the previous thread!
In other news, Waiterbot is continuing to vlog, but he may have to stop soon because I'm starting to sound like him all the time.
Posted by Matt on 11/13/2007. E-mail me!
Chestnuts roasted by 
DJ D
That’s insane and pathetic. Santa can’t laugh, but it’s still thumbs up for some stranger to let hundreds of kids sit on his lap all day. For all the parents know, the guy could be a raging pervert. He can spread his legs and let a couple of children climb atop his lap, but damn him to hell if he spreads Christmas cheer by belting out a hearty Ho Ho Ho!
South Park was right, before too long we’ll only have happy, non-offensive, non-denominational Christmas music by New York minimalist composer, Philip Glass.
As I turn and look into the sun, the rays burn my eyes.
Happy happy happy, everybody’s happy.
How like a turtle the sun looks…