YAWN. Once upon a time there was more nutritional value in the cardboard box of the original Corn Flakes than the actual flakes themselves, and I think we may have come full circle on that one. Cereals these days are for the most part crunchy sweets with all kinds of shite added to make them more appealing to kids, kidults and the overweight. Most important meal of the day, they say. What absolute twaddle. It's Rowan Morrison. What? Meal of the day? I thought you said "Queen of the May". Think what you're doooing! In the name of God think what you're DOOOOING! OH GOD! OH JESUS CHRIST!!! AAIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Having a quick nightmare there, sorry. Anyway it's time for brekkie so leave that snooze button alone and let us rise to the challenge of eating, in sugar, the weight equivalent of a puppy...
Frosted Lucky Charms - 2/10
Summary: Far-out psychedelic freakout comes to your....Hey, look! A purple neon dolphin monkey-goat!
The infamous Lucky Charms. Not for weak stomachs, teeths or minds. Unlucky for some they most definitely are, and magically delicious they most certainly are not. The charms in question are 'mallow' shapes of all kinds of Blarney arse like shamrocks, horseshoes and priests. They're a diabetics nightmare! Or dream. I can't remember - what is it, they have too much or too little sugar? Either way, diabetics and leperachaunophobes will have an extreme reaction to 'Charms.
Kelloggs All-Bran - 3/10
Summary: Sphincterrific Colon-Charmer
At the other end of the scale there's All-Bran. Keeps you regular, they say. I for one dispute that, as I've been eating it twice a day for seven weeks now and I'm still sexually aroused by children. I've a good mind to name and shame Dr. Kelloggs in my upcoming hearing. Being able to shite for Ireland was an interesting side effect for which I hadn't bargained, as the spring in my step (and plastic bag in my Y-fronts) will attest.
Because All-Bran is far removed from the likes of the Lucky Charms detailed above, there is a serving suggestion on the box (which is usually bananas or strawberries) to encourage you to liven up this most dull of cereals. What they really want you to do is mix in a load of Frosties, Ricicles and Coco Pops. In fact, I predict the next evolution in cereal marketing will be to package combinations of Kelloggs favourites together in the same box. You (excitied Kelloggs marketing exec) heard it here first!
Kelloggs Special K Red Berries Bar - 1/10
Summary: Sickening, sugar-loaded girl-pacifier.
A lot of what's wrong with the western world is contained in the concept and reality of this and similar cereal bars. Namely, the 'ol "let's repackage an existing supposedly-healthy product, make it less nutritious and charge significantly more for it gramme-for-gramme than the parent product it's derived from". Well, I'm sure there's other things going in the western world right now, but my current affairs knowledge stems solely from the convenience food market so excuuuuse me Michael Moore if my world view is a little blinkered.
Jordans Strawberry Country Crisp - 8/10
Summary: This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius. The age of Aquarius. Aquariuuuuuuuuuuus.
Since the dawn of rhyme we have had raisins festoon the upper end of the cereal market. Then apples-hazelnuts-bananas, raisins-coconuts-sultanas started getting in on the act and all bloody hell bollox broke loose. And yes I'm aware I mentioned raisins twice there. I have a separate beef with them. It all stepped up another gear when well-endowed model Jordan (she has an enormous penis) introduced her Strawberry Country Crisp to the market.
They were thrilling times indeed when my manservant first brought an exquisite bowl of Country Crisp to my immense marble, gold-leaf edged table. Being the obnoxious child prince from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, I was more accustomed to eating snakes and whatnot, so it was a real boon.
But that was 1984. Nowadays of course you wouldn't blink an inch if an onion or a human head flopped out of the pack into your bowl. What's more, you wouldn't question it either would you, you sap. You don't want to look like a unedumacated peasant in front of Elton John and David Furnish in their beautiful Surrey mansion do you? Eat the head, pretty boy! EEEEAAT IIIIT!!!
Strawberry Cheerios - 4/10
Summary: Polishing a turd the Nestle way.
The freeze-dried strawberry breakfast-enhancement revolution reaches it's nadir with this throwaway offering from Nestle. As we all know, Nestle is an evil company. All their products are made in sweatshops and Cheerios are evidently made from the collected congealed sweat of Chinese chislers and 'fashioned' into O's. Hoops, if you will. Formed in sweatshops, sold in sweetshops, cos life's like this. But sprinkle in the magic of freeze-dried strawberries and you are presented with a package you will find difficult to resist purchasing just the once, out of curiosity. Add to that the attraction of an ill-timed competition tie-in with zany U.S. spin-off failure sitcom "Joey" starring Jennifer Anniston and it spells C-A-N-C-E-L-L-A-T-I-O-N from both supermarket shelves and televisual apparatus.
Dunnes Stores Crisped Rice - 7/10
Summary: So ingenious, so obvious.
The merest splash of milk (or semen) to a small amount of this revolutionary toasted rice bonanza is sure to add a little 'Crack, Fizzle and Fuck!' to any crushingly silent 8am all-too-familiar post-near-calamitous parental argument breakfast table gathering, with the lilting melody of the dancing rice treats gaily yet fleetingly lifting the spirits of this once-strong family union on the brink of collapse.
I made a Crisped Rice once. Never tried it since. It was one of my greater achievements for sure, but I did not feel compelled to repeat my success. Had I made more than one, and accidentally dropped them into a nearby churn, I may have been on to something. Alas, just as when we were fellow abusees in the orphanage, Ben Dunne got there first. Ben there, done that. What next for gentle Ben? Flaked Corn!?
And I know he's not strictly affiliated with the family business any more - I'm just using him as a convenient escape-goat.
Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations - 10/10
Summary: I wouldn't give my spoilt, toothless and obese little darlings anything less.
The definition of 'breakfast cereal' was stretched to it's very limit here, with this seminal offering from the band that would later release 'Frosties - 30% less sugar' to its dwindling fanbase, sick of endless repackaging of past glories. In this stunning debut however, there were, among the multi-racial swirls of Belgian chocolate, hints of a cerealesque substance but they're lost in the densely overpopulated choco frat party. The original Augustus Gloop would have shat himself for this big, brash "up yours, Third World!" of a cereal - if he hadn't gone up that pipe, the hooer.
The Temptations range came and went in the straining blink of a sticky jap's eye, but what they did for the cereal-loving community can be felt the world (of my trousers) over. I was initially put off by the diminutive size of the container, thinking it far too diminutive. "I'll have this sucka nailed in one sitting" as I foolishly told Tackleberry from Police Academy 6 (Forest of Endor Camo Outfit).
I confidently filled the bowl to the brim, just as one would with Weetos, Dunnes Stores Crisped Rice, or faeces. I found that after maybe two spoonfuls, I was struggling. After a brief scuffle, I had fought off my assailant. I then had another couple of spoons and soon realised my error ways of the. "Rich! I'm rich! Rich as Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations beyond my wildest (yet by most standards, unimaginative) Limerick dreams!" as somebody from the news was overheard exclaiming recently. What I'm trying to say is - YOU try wading through even a small helping of Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations and you'll soon find that Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations are the Chocolatiest, most Tempting, Kelloggsiest and BELGIANIST box-of-Milk-Tray-masquerading-as-Alpen style cereal around! Coco Monkey I hardly knew ya!
Next time - something new, fresh and exciting. Perhaps a combination of 3G mobile phone technology, an in-date pint of milk and lesbians. I'm stuffed.
Having a quick nightmare there, sorry. Anyway it's time for brekkie so leave that snooze button alone and let us rise to the challenge of eating, in sugar, the weight equivalent of a puppy...
Frosted Lucky Charms - 2/10
Summary: Far-out psychedelic freakout comes to your....Hey, look! A purple neon dolphin monkey-goat!
The infamous Lucky Charms. Not for weak stomachs, teeths or minds. Unlucky for some they most definitely are, and magically delicious they most certainly are not. The charms in question are 'mallow' shapes of all kinds of Blarney arse like shamrocks, horseshoes and priests. They're a diabetics nightmare! Or dream. I can't remember - what is it, they have too much or too little sugar? Either way, diabetics and leperachaunophobes will have an extreme reaction to 'Charms.
Kelloggs All-Bran - 3/10
Summary: Sphincterrific Colon-Charmer
At the other end of the scale there's All-Bran. Keeps you regular, they say. I for one dispute that, as I've been eating it twice a day for seven weeks now and I'm still sexually aroused by children. I've a good mind to name and shame Dr. Kelloggs in my upcoming hearing. Being able to shite for Ireland was an interesting side effect for which I hadn't bargained, as the spring in my step (and plastic bag in my Y-fronts) will attest.
Because All-Bran is far removed from the likes of the Lucky Charms detailed above, there is a serving suggestion on the box (which is usually bananas or strawberries) to encourage you to liven up this most dull of cereals. What they really want you to do is mix in a load of Frosties, Ricicles and Coco Pops. In fact, I predict the next evolution in cereal marketing will be to package combinations of Kelloggs favourites together in the same box. You (excitied Kelloggs marketing exec) heard it here first!
Kelloggs Special K Red Berries Bar - 1/10
Summary: Sickening, sugar-loaded girl-pacifier.
A lot of what's wrong with the western world is contained in the concept and reality of this and similar cereal bars. Namely, the 'ol "let's repackage an existing supposedly-healthy product, make it less nutritious and charge significantly more for it gramme-for-gramme than the parent product it's derived from". Well, I'm sure there's other things going in the western world right now, but my current affairs knowledge stems solely from the convenience food market so excuuuuse me Michael Moore if my world view is a little blinkered.
Jordans Strawberry Country Crisp - 8/10
Summary: This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius. The age of Aquarius. Aquariuuuuuuuuuuus.
Since the dawn of rhyme we have had raisins festoon the upper end of the cereal market. Then apples-hazelnuts-bananas, raisins-coconuts-sultanas started getting in on the act and all bloody hell bollox broke loose. And yes I'm aware I mentioned raisins twice there. I have a separate beef with them. It all stepped up another gear when well-endowed model Jordan (she has an enormous penis) introduced her Strawberry Country Crisp to the market.
They were thrilling times indeed when my manservant first brought an exquisite bowl of Country Crisp to my immense marble, gold-leaf edged table. Being the obnoxious child prince from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, I was more accustomed to eating snakes and whatnot, so it was a real boon.
But that was 1984. Nowadays of course you wouldn't blink an inch if an onion or a human head flopped out of the pack into your bowl. What's more, you wouldn't question it either would you, you sap. You don't want to look like a unedumacated peasant in front of Elton John and David Furnish in their beautiful Surrey mansion do you? Eat the head, pretty boy! EEEEAAT IIIIT!!!
Strawberry Cheerios - 4/10
Summary: Polishing a turd the Nestle way.
The freeze-dried strawberry breakfast-enhancement revolution reaches it's nadir with this throwaway offering from Nestle. As we all know, Nestle is an evil company. All their products are made in sweatshops and Cheerios are evidently made from the collected congealed sweat of Chinese chislers and 'fashioned' into O's. Hoops, if you will. Formed in sweatshops, sold in sweetshops, cos life's like this. But sprinkle in the magic of freeze-dried strawberries and you are presented with a package you will find difficult to resist purchasing just the once, out of curiosity. Add to that the attraction of an ill-timed competition tie-in with zany U.S. spin-off failure sitcom "Joey" starring Jennifer Anniston and it spells C-A-N-C-E-L-L-A-T-I-O-N from both supermarket shelves and televisual apparatus.
Dunnes Stores Crisped Rice - 7/10
Summary: So ingenious, so obvious.
The merest splash of milk (or semen) to a small amount of this revolutionary toasted rice bonanza is sure to add a little 'Crack, Fizzle and Fuck!' to any crushingly silent 8am all-too-familiar post-near-calamitous parental argument breakfast table gathering, with the lilting melody of the dancing rice treats gaily yet fleetingly lifting the spirits of this once-strong family union on the brink of collapse.
I made a Crisped Rice once. Never tried it since. It was one of my greater achievements for sure, but I did not feel compelled to repeat my success. Had I made more than one, and accidentally dropped them into a nearby churn, I may have been on to something. Alas, just as when we were fellow abusees in the orphanage, Ben Dunne got there first. Ben there, done that. What next for gentle Ben? Flaked Corn!?
And I know he's not strictly affiliated with the family business any more - I'm just using him as a convenient escape-goat.
Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations - 10/10
Summary: I wouldn't give my spoilt, toothless and obese little darlings anything less.
The definition of 'breakfast cereal' was stretched to it's very limit here, with this seminal offering from the band that would later release 'Frosties - 30% less sugar' to its dwindling fanbase, sick of endless repackaging of past glories. In this stunning debut however, there were, among the multi-racial swirls of Belgian chocolate, hints of a cerealesque substance but they're lost in the densely overpopulated choco frat party. The original Augustus Gloop would have shat himself for this big, brash "up yours, Third World!" of a cereal - if he hadn't gone up that pipe, the hooer.
The Temptations range came and went in the straining blink of a sticky jap's eye, but what they did for the cereal-loving community can be felt the world (of my trousers) over. I was initially put off by the diminutive size of the container, thinking it far too diminutive. "I'll have this sucka nailed in one sitting" as I foolishly told Tackleberry from Police Academy 6 (Forest of Endor Camo Outfit).
I confidently filled the bowl to the brim, just as one would with Weetos, Dunnes Stores Crisped Rice, or faeces. I found that after maybe two spoonfuls, I was struggling. After a brief scuffle, I had fought off my assailant. I then had another couple of spoons and soon realised my error ways of the. "Rich! I'm rich! Rich as Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations beyond my wildest (yet by most standards, unimaginative) Limerick dreams!" as somebody from the news was overheard exclaiming recently. What I'm trying to say is - YOU try wading through even a small helping of Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations and you'll soon find that Kelloggs Belgian Chocolate Temptations are the Chocolatiest, most Tempting, Kelloggsiest and BELGIANIST box-of-Milk-Tray-masquerading-as-Alpen style cereal around! Coco Monkey I hardly knew ya!
Next time - something new, fresh and exciting. Perhaps a combination of 3G mobile phone technology, an in-date pint of milk and lesbians. I'm stuffed.
you sir are a poet. and 10/10 for your charming review. well done sah!!
