REVIEW: Furuta Sequoia Strawberry Chocolate

There’s a saying: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I usually thought of it as a bullshit saying because where’s the fun in that? Evil geniuses like me couldn’t fail to take over the world if we lived by those stupid sayings. Batman wouldn’t have had the rubber nipples suit and my neighbor in college wouldn’t have come up with novel ways to flash his hairy balls at me. Okay, I don’t exactly have a infallible worldwide domination plot, but I have my evil laugh down, so I’m halfway there! It’s essentially a bastardized version of Dr. Evil’s laugh, but it’s MY bastardized version.

I’ve always loved the original Kit Kat bars, and they were my favorite candy as a kid, so when I saw this at the checkout counter, I admit I was a bit eager to see a Japanese company’s take on this classic. I soon learned that I had made a horrible mistake.

It looks like a stick of strawberry gum, complete with white specks and streaks. Definitely not appealing despite its strawberry yogurt smell, which was actually kind of nice. My first thought after biting into this was, “Sweet Evil Jesus!” Seriously, where’s the strawberry? And my god, what is up with this artificial chemical taste that just bursts out with the first bite? I could barely taste the strawberry over the very artificial vanilla cream, “strawberry” coating and the stale wafer inside. It actually almost tastes like how paint smells.

I guess the target audience is for people with children…people who want to mindfuck with their children. This would actually make a decent punishment, sort of like when I was expecting a Super Nintendo on a Christmas morning and I got my hopes up so high that I cried when I tore the wrapping to find out it was just a lousy 3D Empire State Building puzzle. But the worst part? It was missing 3 pieces.

I’d like to say that one of the good things about it is that it comes in a pack of five, but unfortunately, it means there are five pieces. The only redeeming thing about this candy is the hexagonal box it comes in. If I hold it just right, I can cover up the name of the candy and tell others that it’s a smaller version of a Toblerone. Well, that, and it makes a dandy place to hide my blueprints for an underground cave lair complete with a cage for my evil guinea pig, Fuck Nut.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 and a quarter sticks – 158 calories, 8.7 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 50 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 1.6 grams of protein, and the tears of children.)

Item: Furuta Sequoia Strawberry Chocolate

Price: $2.69

Size: 30 grams

Purchased at: China Mart

Rating: 1 out of 10 

Pros: Hairy balls. Strawberry yogurt smell. Mindfucking children. Container makes a dandy hiding place. Evil guinea pig named Fuck Nut.

Cons: Bubblegum appearance. Artificial and chemical tastes. Paint smell taste. Overpowering vanilla crème. Stale Wafer. Lousy 3D puzzle. 5 pieces.

REVIEW: Green Tea (Matcha) Kit Kat (Japan)

Is there anything the Japanese won’t use as a flavor for their Kit Kats? Holy cow! And just to let you know, I didn’t type “holy cow” as an exclamation, I typed that because it is probably the next Japanese Kit Kat flavor. Mmm…Beef Kit Kat. You think I’m kidding? This is the country that sells used schoolgirl panties in VENDING MACHINES! If they’re capable of that, then they’re also capable of making a carcass-flavored Kit Kat that you can break apart and share with your friends so they can gag along with you and hold back your hair if you throw up.

I could list all the Japanese Kit Kat flavors that ever existed, but that would be as exciting as watching C-SPAN tally the congressional votes for an amendment to agree to making an amendment to an amendment, but to give you an idea of how low they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, there’s a soy sauce Kit Kat. Of course, Nestle Japan has also produced normal-sounding flavors, like banana and caramel, but usually it’s quirky shit, like this Green Tea (Matcha) Kit Kat.

The Green Tea Kit Kat comes in a color that looks like it’s been hit with a ton of gamma rays, because it’s Incredible Hulk green. Depending on whether or not you’ve had green tea or green tea flavored products before, the Green Tea Kit Kat can either be 2003-Hulk-movie-mediocre or 2008-The-Incredible-Hulk-movie-good. If you’ve never had green tea, this Kit Kat’s slightly bitter, but mostly sweet taste might be a little off-putting.

It basically consisted of white chocolate with green tea flavoring and it tastes similar to green tea ice cream. What’s on the outside and its flavor may seem unusual to most, but the wafers inside were crispy like any other Kit Kat. I personally really enjoyed the Green Tea Kit Kat and I’m hoping to get my hands on more, so it looks like I’ll be asking for partial payment in Green Tea Kit Kats whenever I offer my body company to lonely, middle-aged female Japanese tourists in Waikiki.

(Editor’s Note: Cybele at the Candy Blog reviewed these a few years ago back when fo’ shizzle was actually hip to say.)

Item: Green Tea (Matcha) Kit Kat
Price: FREE
Purchased at: Someplace in Japan
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Very enjoyable. Green tea flavor reminds me of green tea ice cream. Crispy wafers. Possibly getting paid in Green Tea Kit Kats. 2008 The Incredible Hulk movie.
Cons: If you don’t like green tea, you won’t like these. Slightly bitter taste maybe off-putting. Hard to find, unless you’re in Japan or have a kick ass Japanese market in your town. Watching C-SPAN vote tallies. 2003 Hulk movie.

REVIEW: Spearmint Pure Mints

I never thought a company would make a product specifically for vain douchebags, but the Spearmint Pure Mints with its included mirror under the lid seems like it’s perfect for those who like fresh breath and enjoy looking at themselves in the mirror while admiring their perceived awesomeness.

(Editor’s Note: These Pure Mints are not related in anyway with Meltzer’s Puremints.)

If you drive a Porsche convertible with the license plate that says MYRIDE, you are a douchebag and these mints might be perfect for you. If you go around in the middle of the night and blast rap music from your tricked out 1985 Toyota Tercel hatchback from some shitty rapper who only raps about how awesome he is, you are a douchebag and these mints might be meant for you. If your name starts with an S and ends with a pencer Pratt or starts with an H and ends with eidi Montag and you charge thousands of dollars to show up at some club, you are a douchebag and I hope you choke on these mints.

There really isn’t anything special about the Spearmint Pure Mints themselves. Each mint is quite small, which is something I don’t like because I feel that I need to take more than one to freshen my breath. To give you an idea of how small they are, it would take three or four of them to equal the mass of one curiously-strong Altoid. I also didn’t like how minty they were. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being a slap to the face and 1 being a tickling of my beard, these mints were a 5.

The only thing the Spearmint Pure Mints have going for themselves is the mirror under the mint tin’s lid. Unfortunately, the mirror is small, so if you’re a really big douchebag, you won’t be able to see much in it since your ego is probably taking most of the space. Even at arms length, I couldn’t see my entire face. It’s so ineffective that it probably won’t do you any good if you’re doing something practical like trying to put on makeup or signaling someone using Morse code. I think the mirror is only good for looking to see if you have something in between your teeth or a booger hanging out of your nose.

Besides douchebags, I’m not sure if the Spearmint Pure Mints would be appropriate for others. The one thing I know for sure is that if you’re a douchebag wanting to cover the stank of douchebagness, these mints won’t do it, because a douchebag with fresh breath is still a douchebag.

Item: Spearmint Pure Mints
Price: $1.48
Size: 0.28 ounces
Purchased at: Longs Drugs
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: There’s a mutha fuckin’ mirror inside. Mints were average. Sugar-free.
Cons: Mints are small. Mirror is really small for big douchebags. Not curiously-strong. Meant for douchebags. Douchebag vanity license plates. Douchebag rap lyrics.

Maxxed Energy Pop

I think I’ve found the perfect “magic trick” for David Blaine, because it is neither magic nor a trick and it might kill him. I would like to see him consume every possible type of “energy” product at one time — drink an energy drink, swallow a Vivarin, suck on energy mints, wear energy lip balm, chew on energy gum, wash with energy body wash, apply caffeinated body lotion, eat energy candy, and suck on the Maxxed Energy Pop.

Oh, if only there were energy enemas and energy condoms.

Why would I want to do such a thing to a creepy illusionist? I want to do it for the children. A famous crackhead once said, “I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way.” I want children to realize that caffeine, like the 40 milligrams of it in the Maxxed Energy Pop, is bad for them. Just like alcohol and anything after 11 p.m. on Cinemax, it’s meant for mature people.

I worry about the children, although I don’t really worry about their health. I worry about how hyper and annoying they could get with all those energy boosting products flowing through their bloodstream. Possibly so annoying that parents might spend evenings taking college science and engineering courses so that they can build a time machine to go back in time to get their tubes tied. Remember, children are our future. No children, no future.

Usually putting things into kids’ mouths will shut them up, but putting the radioactive green-colored Maxxed Energy Pop into a child’s mouth will do the opposite, if they can fit it into their mouth, since it’s roughly twice the size of a Tootsie Pop. After sucking on it a little bit, the smooth texture of the lollipop turned into coarse sandpaper, which was kind of off-putting. It was like the lollipop grew a five o’clock shadow in my mouth. Its flavor was sweet and little tart, which I enjoyed. What I didn’t enjoy was the packaging it came in. It maybe the treehugger in me talking, but it seemed kind of wasteful to have a lollipop come in a fake energy drink can made out of cardboard.

The two things I liked most about the Maxxed Energy Pop are the same two reasons why the erectile dysfunctional enjoy Viagra — they both are able to get us up and to sustain it for a good amount of time. I got a good energy kick from the caffeinated lollipop, which surprised me, since it only has 40 milligrams of caffeine. I think because it’s a lollipop, I’m able to slowly consume the caffeine and other energy elements, causing a sustained boost of energy. It took me about 30 minutes to suck down the entire Maxxed Energy Pop, which is a lot longer than it takes for me to consume an energy drink.

If I’m able to get a decent kick out of it, imagine what a little kid could do powered by a Maxxed Energy Pop. They could comb Barbie’s hair a little too rough, go a little too fast on their Heelys, and cause a Buddhist monk to break their decade long vow of silence by annoying the monk by singing the same Dora The Explorer song in a continuous loop. With those abilities, if I do see a kid sucking on a Maxxed Energy Pop, I will do what’s best and take it from them — and if they’re holding a balloon, I’ll pop that too. Oh, I’ll also tell them that Santa Claus isn’t real and they were an accident.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pop – 90 calories, 0 grams of fat, 5 milligrams of sodium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 16 grams of sugar, 0 grams of protein, 45% niacin, 30% vitamin B12, 120% vitamin B6, 15% pantothenic acid, 500 milligrams taurine, 50 milligrams of D-Glucuronolactone, 40 milligrams of caffeine, 6650 micrograms of guarana, 6650 micrograms of panax ginseng, 50 micrograms of inositol, and 0.9 ounces of green)

Item: Maxxed Energy Pop
Price: $1.15
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Sweet and tart flavor. Sustained energy boost because it’s a lollipop. Sweet, sweet caffeine. Long lasting pop. Cinemax after 11 p.m.
Cons: Coarse sandpaper texture. Overpriced for a sucker. Wasteful packaging. Children consuming caffeine. David Blaine. Listening to a kid sing the same song over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice

I really believe the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice is the marshmallow equivalent of a “fuck you.”

If only I had the addresses of all the people who have bullied, teased, or blueballed me over the years, I would be mailing these fuckers en masse. If you don’t love your child, giving this product to them is probably the softest way to let them know, right behind the words, “You were an accident…that happened in the back seat of a Ford Pinto…with some guy I met at a bar at closing…I think his name was Rick…or Roger…I only had you for the welfare.”

The idea of a strawberry-flavored marshmallow that is shaped like a pizza is something beyond a novelty. It is like a cruel joke that is so cruel, no one laughs at it. Yes, I did say that this marshmallow pizza is strawberry flavored. I will admit a marshmallow pizza that is pizza flavored sounds even worse, but at least it would make sense.

Strangely, I wasn’t drunk, high, or delirious with hunger when I bought it, but I wish I was drunk or high when I ate some of it, because it is something I would like to forget in either an alcoholic haze or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style.

I took three regrettable bites out of the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice and then wished for a flux capacitor to be delivered via FedEx to my door so that I can go back in time and stop myself from purchasing something that not even fat kids would eat.

Its strawberry flavor was like I was eating a shitty strawberry yogurt. Its texture was a little tough, which is weird since it is a frickin’ marshmallow. Finally, the marshmallow pizza itself looked like a Picasso abstract painting…done by a 6-year-old with fingerpaints and on acid.

Despite everything bad about the Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice, there is some good. It is fat free, but unfortunately, the zero grams of fat don’t make up for the 1,000 grams of shame.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 package – 150 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 35 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbs, 0 grams of fiber, 26 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 4% calcium, 2% iron, and 1,000 grams of shame.)

Item: Megamallows Giant Pizza Slice
Price: $1.49
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: It didn’t make me puke. Fat free.
Cons: It’s a pizza that’s strawberry flavored. 1,000 grams of shame. The marshmallow equivalent of a fuck you. Shitty strawberry taste. No flux capacitor.

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