I was never big on Pop-Tarts as a kid. It wasn't an active hatred. Our paths just never seemed to cross. If only Kellogg's had gotten the idea to make Pop-Tarts based on every conceivable event years earlier. I have so much lost time to make up for. I can't eat this many Pop-Tarts.

Over the course of X-E history, I slowly grew an appreciation for them. After experiencing Pop-Tarts based on SpongeBob and Darth Vader, it was hard not to.

These days, I must be the 877th biggest Pop-Tarts fan on the planet. Whoever controls them has created such an amazingly strong bond between Pop-Tarts and various holidays. I feel like I'll never successfully celebrate anything again until I've toasted a Pop-Tart based on it.

This holiday season, there are so many special edition Pop-Tarts to choose from. Below are two. One's for Christmas, and the other is for Thanksgiving. I'll start with Christmas. You knew I would.

I believe these are new for 2011, but I've been wrong before. Meet Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts, which are everything they claim to be, and better than you're likely assuming.

Don't underestimate these Pop-Tarts. I know the theme seems a little all over the place, and that there are no ultimate buzz words in the title. Dig deeper.

First, the box. Allow your eyes to move beyond that blazing yellow. What's left? ICY BLUE. The true color of Christmastime. Red and green are merely the rooks to Icy Blue's king.

Also note the trees on the box. Like enormous wands of ICY BLUE cotton candy. By the time you notice the snowman who betrays his sentience with the positioning of his left arm, you're ready to wrap this shit and put your name on the tag.

Then, the Pop-Tarts themselves. Incredible. They're supposed to smell like sugar cookies, and they do, but to stop there would be a great disservice to this pastry paradise Kellogg's has forged for us.

There were seventeen people I wanted to kill earlier tonight. After smelling these Pop-Tarts, it went down to twelve. I forgave and forgot. The air was too delicious to hate anything.

The insides are filled with whitish ooze that looks a bit like the aftermath of a cystic supernova, but if you can forgive that, it tastes like something people should only get to taste after they've completed some great deed. It's like eating warm cookies covered in melted cake frosting, but even cooler since it's inside-out.

The top of each Pop-Tart is slathered with dried frosting. Since these are "Printed Fun" Pop-Tarts, each also bears a strange holiday cartoon within that dried frosting.

Really bizarre stuff. If you bought a package of Christmas stickers from a mom & pop gas station's semi-attached gift shop in West Caldwell, this is sort of what they'd look like.

Take the above two. On the broken Pop-Tart, there are mice exaggerating the size of their fishing catches, while flicking their tongues like snakes. On the other, a polar bear and two penguins ride a toboggan with their arms outstretched. I guess that isn't as weird as the mice, but it still isn't what I'd expect to see on a Kellogg's Pop-Tart.

My favorite thing about all of these holiday Pop-Tarts are the wacky recipes they come with. I can never turn them down. There are so many possibilities that thrill me, and yet, so few that I ever make an attempt to capitalize on. For some reason, I never flake on a wacky Pop-Tarts recipe. In all likelihood, it's not the best area of focus if I want to be more than a suicide case with a shitty car by age 40.

This time, they challenge you to make "Sugar Cookie Cutouts" out of Pop-Tarts. I accepted their terms.

Basically, you just cut out the character shapes from each pastry, decorate with frosting, and call it a night. This is a far cry from the time they had me smoosh 45 Halloween Pop-Tarts into the shape of a graveyard.

When it came time to decorate the cookies, my creativity took a powder. When I wasn't settling for random dots, I was writing the word "tree" on a cookie that did not feature any trees. But at least we can now estimate what it'd look like if three transients who were barely exiting a K-hole decided to paint Pop-Tarts.

And again, check out the images printed on each pastry. Or at least the turtle, who uses his own shell as a sled. I have a hard time believing that these images were custom made. Did some guy die and leave Kellogg's the licensing rights to a stock illustration catalog from 1936? I really, really hope so.

I should mention that Kellogg's also brought back those Gingerbread Pop-Tarts, but since I've already covered them to the point of making a gingerbread house out of the goddamned box, I won't again.

Course, I reviewed this next one before, too. But I have my reasons for bringing them back:

I've been sitting on these Frosted Pumpkin Pie Pop-Tarts since mid-September. Found them the same day I located the Halloween ones.

I reviewed Pumpkin Pie Pop-Tarts once already, and that was enough. I'm not here to talk about what they look like, smell like or taste like. I'm here to turn them into motherfucking turkeys.

With this, we now have solid proof that Pumpkin Pie Pop-Tarts are an official Thanksgiving flavor. No room for doubt. Turkeys belong to Thanksgiving, especially when they're represented as mutant Pop-Tarts with exaggerated wattles made of cake frosting.

Okay, they suck. In my defense, I didn't have the necessary tools. No circle-shaped cookie cutter. No tips for my tubes of icing, which led to the sorriest bunch of homemade piping bags ever created. I was also somewhat limited to black icing, which made the candy turkeys appear to have leprosy. But that's nothing to laugh about.

Using candy corn for feathers, they resemble turkeys decently enough. I kinda blew it on the wattles, unless we're to assume that certain turkeys keep them on their foreheads. I'm down with the notion, but I can't figure out how they'd accomplish it. Elective surgery? I doubt it. Name me a vain turkey.

Kellogg's also included instructions on turning the cardboard box into turkey-shaped pins. I'll save that for next Thanksgiving. I need things to look forward to.