I’m not in the mood to write anything of substance tonight — or more truthfully, the stuff I want to write is too substantial to accomplish between now and midnight. The clock remains my enemy.

So, rather than destroying myself trying to find something that only warrants two paragraphs and zero effort, today, you get repeats! Here are some of my random favorites from previous X-E Megaparties:

Tribute to Ecopsheres: Because it just hit me that I really, really want another one of these. I wonder if they’ve expanded the line lately?

TMNT Pudding Pies Commercial: I know where my bread is buttered. Fun fact: The pie wrapper scans from this old article are among the most-often hotlinked images on X-E.

Dinosaur Beach Tribute: A small and sincere homage to one of Wildwood NJ’s many lost treasures.

BULLSHOT: I’m not sure if I’ve ever grossed out readers more than I did when I created, drank and actually liked a cocktail made chiefly of beef broth.

Horrormelons: When the mind drifts to Halloween during summertime, watermelons so often find themselves the victims.

Bulbasaur Craft Project: Still my favorite article to spring from a Megaparty, and nobody will ever change my mind.

Gonna get started on tomorrow’s entry, which will include all-new super-fresh content, guaranteed to make up for an entry full of hyperlinks.

I am a Gremlins nut. If you’ve read X-E for any length of time, you already knew this. I was hooked from the moment I saw Gizmo bumbling about in commercials for the first movie, even if I knew that things like Gizmo could turn into nightmarish creatures that would haunt my dreams worse than a bad day at school or a random appearance by Monos, the god of pain. I was old enough to appreciate monsters by the time Gremlins 2 came out, but my fanship was still owed to Gizmo alone.

Because kids have such a wonderful inability to separate fact from fiction, I spent much of my early childhood obsessed with the idea of owning a real, live mogwai — that being the official species name for Gizmo’s kind. It wasn’t like I thought I could get Gizmo just by visiting the pet store with an agreeable parent, but I at least had it in my mind that he was a rare kind of miniature, super smart bear, native to some distant island, and that with considerable effort, I could own one such bear. I had other theories, too, and none of them ever amounted to a puppet with some hairy arm up its ass.

While these theories kept hope alive, they did nothing to put a breathing, adorable mogwai in my arms at night. I had to settle on merchandise and a mutant form of animism. As such, anything in stores bearing Gizmo’s likeness had to be mine, up to and including breakfast.

(click here to see the box, BIGGER)

“Gremlins Cereal” debuted in 1984, I guess proving that I wasn’t the only small boy who sliced his forearm each night in a sacrificial plea for mogwais to turn up rummaging through the trash outside. I’ve been excited about many cereals throughout my life. Hell, I’d dare say that no new cereal hasn’t managed to excite me at least a little bit. But nothing hit me quite like Gremlins Cereal, because the box art portrayed that same vision of Gizmo spoonfeeding me that had already been plaguing my mind for months.

It was made by Ralston, which is hilarious, because I’ve covered like eight dozen different Ralston movie-themed cereals on this site, and 99% of them just reshape Cap’n Crunch in the most loosely thematically-tied way possible. Here, the crunchy bits were meant to look like tiny Gremlins, thereby placing Gremlins Cereal among Corn Flakes and other breakfast all-stars whose product names can be accepted as literal descriptions of the contents.

The cereal pieces didn’t really look like Gremlins, though. Some did, but in retrospect, a large portion of those bowls seemed to be filled with little edible spins on the Blair Witch stick symbol. Still, at 4 or 5 years of age, I doubt this stopped me from playing with my food.

The Gremlins Cereal TV commercial was a pretty big number, mixing a jingle that will forever live in my head with totally custom footage of kids raiding the fridge with mogwai ears, and Gizmo himself, eating spoonfuls of enemy effigies in what was assuredly the cutest two seconds in all of television history. (For those interested, part of the commercial is on YouTube, but since it isn’t my upload, I hate it.)

Eating a cereal personally endorsed by Gizmo was one kind of joy, but a special offer on the back of Gremlins Cereal boxes was a different kind of joy: The kind that made my eyes jump out of my head, grow arms, and start pushing each other in playful disbelief over what they’d just seen. It wasn’t an offer to get my very own live mogwai, but it was so damn close:

They had me at the first line. If the rest of the ad showed photos of dead elephants and huge spiders, they still would’ve had me at that first line. “Get your very own Gizmo.” I am truly disgusted that this hasn’t been pitched to me more often.

The deal was that you could buy a Gizmo plushie for $9.95 with two proofs of purchase, which is really kinda ridiculous, as $9.95 was no discount price. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have necessarily complained about needing to double up on boxes of Gremlins Cereal.

The plushie was not a replacement for a real mogwai, but it was better than carrying a tan couch pillow with a “Gizmo” nametag around. More awesome was the note in the fine print: Gizmo would arrive in his very own shoe box! (I still think part of my Gizmo fascination was a byproduct of the incredible antique box Rand Peltzer brought him home in — so if I was going to get a facsimile of Gizmo, I’d have strongly preferred a facsimile of that box to go with it.)

If you’re waiting for me to share memories of that fateful day when plushie Gizmo arrived, I can’t. I distinctly remember having my mind blown at the chance, but somehow, it never came to pass. I suppose, to a five-year-old, the process of collecting proofs of purchase, and writing checks, and figuring out how the postal system worked seemed like too tall of an order. To this day, it still drives me absolutely insane to not know if Gizmo really came in a shoe box like the one pictured, air holes and all.

Without a plush to feed my needs, I ultimately settled on a six-inch plastic Gizmo figurine made by LJN, which was cute and had moveable arms, but wasn’t cuddly, and hurt when I slept with it. I still treated that little fucker like it had more feelings than our dog, so I can only imagine what life would’ve been like had I owned the soft plushie. The assumption is, today, I would be a much happier person overall.

I did eventually get that plushie, but by then I was too old to be friends with it. Yard sale or eBay or something…can’t really remember. I don’t know for certain that it’s the same plushie advertised on the back of the cereal box, but save for a minor difference in nose color, it certainly looks to be. It’d be interesting if it was the same doll, because while the advertisement spent a full paragraph celebrating the virtues of a free shoe box, it never once mentioned the fantastic thing that this doll can do: Squeak when you shake it. The squeaking doesn’t sound much like mogwai chatter, but for kids yearning for something that would lessen the burden of an existence without real mogwais, it was just one step closer.

Everyone grows up seeing fake stuff on television and in movies that they absolutely must have, no matter how impossible. I stand firm that I needed this fake thing more than you needed your fake things. Had I been presented with a genie lamp, world peace and a million dollars would’ve waited in line.

And for the naysaying toads just waiting to pounce on me for breaking this one-a-day entry rule, I remind you that this was posted before midnight, as all things related to mogwais should.

Already got a slew of great entries for X-E’s Least Favorite TV Character Paint Contest, with very few duplicates. The results show is shaping up to be a spectacle. Keep ‘em coming. We can validate each other.

Today marks the momentous rebirth of the Kool-Aid Section, which has hid dormant for longer than some of your children have been alive. We have the folks at Target to thank, because they introduced me to Kool-Aid FunFizz. It is what it sounds like. Kool-Aid that fizzes.

Because I like to see a large number of comments and realize that a Kool-Aid review’s feedback thread would fail to create them, we need an attached survey.

In the comments, tell the world about the best amusement park ride you’ve ever been on. Tell us what it is, where it is, and why you love it. “Amusement park ride” is a catchall, mind you: Anything from roller coasters to tilt-a-whirls to haunted houses to Mickey’s Philharmagic can apply. I’d tell you mine, but I already did.

I know a kid who recently started his very first webcomic. It lives on his hard drive and the continuing series has almost two whole issues. He wanted some feedback, and I gently urged him to move away from his computer’s complimentary Paint program and onto Photoshop, or at least, anything that wasn’t Paint.

Only the lucky or alien can make good-looking art with Paint, that disagreeable monster, and even people seriously proficient in Photoshop often fail at drawing one little caterpillar in Paint. I don’t have statistics to back this up, but it must be true.

In pre-X-Entertainment times, I remember trying to make stuff with Paint. Like, stuff that I intended to show other people. It was a horrible, painful experience, and I think I’d like for you all to experience it.

Consequentially, I introduce you to X-E’s Least Favorite TV Character Paint Contest. Your mission: Using your computer’s Paint program and nothing but your computer’s Paint program, create a work of art featuring your most despised television character.

One grand prize winner will receive this insanely life-altering crab-themed party hat, courtesy of me. There may also be runner-up prizes, but I can’t commit to that until I see my next credit card bill. Also, I’m not entirely sure what my criteria will be when it’s time to judge, so I cannot suggest a strategy. Mainly, I just enjoy the idea of influencing a small number of people to waste a night drawing Terry from True Blood.

You have until next Saturday, August 14th, at 1 PM EST sharp to send me your entry. JPEG format preferred, but I won’t disqualify you over BMPs, because I am not a jerk.

Assuming I get less than 50 of them, all entries will be featured on the site next weekend. This way, even the most enormous losers can be famous.

I too will be entering, though I am not eligible for any prizes. Will spend the week determining which TV character makes me want to die the most, but in the meantime, I thought I’d brush up on my Paint skills, for the sake of the pun if nothing else. [more]

I was so excited when I got my Treo a few years ago, but time has not been kind. I need a new phone. Badly. While virtually everyone I work with has an iPhone or a reasonable facsimile of an iPhone, I’m saddled with this comparative antique that can barely pull up Gmail without exploding.

So I’ve been casually researching new phones, but there are some problems. One, I’m locked into a long term Sprint contract, and though I’m sure I can buy or complain my way out of that contract, I doubt I’ll put in the money or effort needed to do so. This means I’m limited to whatever phones are available through Sprint, immediately knocking some of the obvious choices out of contention.

Two, I’m a tech idiot. Seriously. Total dinosaur. For someone who had a website up and running with all kinds of bells and whistles in the days before white bread came with URLs on the packages, it’s incredible how behind the times I am with anything techy. Like, when I need a new computer, as people like me seem to need fairly often, my buying process consists of driving to Best Buy, looking around for three minutes, and saying “that one.” (This is how I ended up with my current HP TouchSmart — a computer built around a touchscreen gimmick that I absolutely don’t need nor have I ever used. In fact, only after months was I reminded that it even had that capability, when a fly landed directly on the “X” in Firefox and closed me out.) I don’t do Blu-ray, I don’t have a Tivo, I suck.

But this phone upgrade has to happen. Work trends are changing. When I got my Treo, I only needed to be able to send one-line e-mails when I was trapped on three hour bus rides. Now, more is expected. My days with this phone are numbered.

Saying goodbye to a cell phone is never easy, because it’s a safe bet that most of what you saved on that phone is going to go with it. Even if there is a way to safely transfer the contents of one phone to another, you must remember that such exercises would be ones of futility for a tech moron like myself.

Mostly, I hate losing all of the photos. There is an imbecilic intimacy to photos taken with one’s phone, and as a person who finds it hard to throw away grocery receipts if I had a nice time shopping, it’s only natural that I can’t easily bid farewell to grainy photos of street signs and my cats.

Thus! As I did before ditching my previous phone, I’d like to get some of the Treo’s photos on the site, where I can cherish them forever, and get out of having to think up a more reasonable topic for a blog post.

Below are seven photos that, somehow, seemed to be worth saving.

This is Kitten. Officially, her name is Saturn, but we never call her that, and the name “Saturn” only comes into play during vet visits — because we don’t want to seem like the kind of pet parents who would name their cat “Kitten.” (If you’ll recall, we also have a cat named “Gray Cat.”)

I guess Kitten is around seven years old. During the adoption process, we narrowed the choices down to her, and an adorable orange-and-white kitty of the same age and possibly from the same litter.

I chose Kitten because I went into the place thinking, “I want a gray cat.” (Not to be confused with THE “Gray Cat,” who we hadn’t adopted yet.) I ignored the warning signs. Kitten, who was tiny at the time, spent our first meeting chewing on my hand in the same way a survivalist would chew his reserve supply of jerky after spending an exhausting and unsuccessful day foraging for nuts. The orange-and-white cat, on the other hand, practically made out with me.

How Kitten got the nod, I will never comprehend. Keep in mind, I don’t consider our decision a mistake. We love Kitten. But she’s the meanest cat in cat history, whose idea of “holding back” is biting you for only 15 seconds instead of the usual 75. I’d say she’s a boy cat trapped in a girl cat’s body, but we have boy cats, and they’ve never tried to murder me. Kitten has, and will continue to do so.

Someone in the last thread, impressed with how I’ve managed to hold onto blue french fries for six years, was curious if I kept that pink Simpsons movie donut from 7-Eleven’s much ballyhooed movie promotion. No, I haven’t. But I still have the photo on my phone, and I will consider that a 5% victory. [more]

Hard to believe that it’s been four years since I revealed X-Entertainment’s Freezer, a place where any foodstuff’s expiration date is disregarded, and anything packaged with a cartoon character on the front becomes a collectible in cold storage. I am, frankly, disgusting.

In the years since that article was published (and most of the written-about contents finally thrown away), our freezer has slowly built up a new army of things that would probably sell well on eBay if I had any way to ship them.

Recently, I was told in no uncertain terms that our freezer needed to be used for it’s truly intended purpose, and could no longer dedicate 50% of its real estate to five-year-old 7-Eleven Slurpees and breakfast foods promoting the movie Shrek 2. I’ve learned to pick my battles: It was time to clean the freezer.

For the once-delicious treasure below, today is their last hurrah!

First up, a Superman Returns “Kryptonite Ice” Slurpee from 2006. I have no idea what persuaded me to keep this, as I already wrote about it in full. The Slurpee on the right is from one of the Transformers movies, and I can only surmise based on the cup design and Slurpee color that it had some sort of Bumblebee-themed flavor. Given its condition, it seems that the Transformers Slurpee liked to mouth off to all of the other old food when I wasn’t looking.

In the middle, a McDonald’s Shamrock Shake, leftover from my 2006 tribute. I went through a lot of trouble to find a McDonald’s that still sold Shamrock Shakes that year, and my decision to keep one stemmed out of fear that they’d never come back. I suppose I had dreams of owning the last Shamrock Shake on the planet, with which I could parade into cold climate pop museums and name my price at a later date.

These Sopranos edition Chipwiches came out right around the show’s finale, and since it’s hard to imagine anyone having a distinct need for ice cream tied to The Sopranos, I’m guessing that they were only sold in the show’s Tri-State area home turf.

To make the Chipwiches more Sopranos-esque, they were made with cherry-flavored ice cream, as opposed to the typical vanilla or less-typical-but-still-familiar chocolate. How cherry ice cream makes them more Sopranos-esque, I cannot answer. I’d say it’s an Italian thing, but I’m Italian, and I live 20 minutes from Tony Soprano. I’ve never eaten — or even seen anyone else eat — cherry ice cream in my entire life. Maybe it was supposed to represent blood and violence, or the #CB152D series logo? [more]