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When I was growing up, an Oreo was an Oreo. Chocolate cookies up top and down below, white frosting-like goo in the middle. Decent. Proudly American. If the Oreo were a person, it would have been a crew-cut kid in the 5o’s saluting the Stars n’ Stripes and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Would he, so moved by the weight of the words, shed a single tear? You’re goddamn right, and it would have tasted DELICIOUS.
Something happened, though… the world changed, I guess. That little crew-cut cookie went to college, dropped acid, and turned into a commie freak. Gone were the days of JUST chocolate cookies and JUST vanilla-ish paste. No, now it was ALL the flavors, fast and loose… the Oreo was on the make, bedding down with any wild concoction of flavors and dyes that the Nabisco-owned petrochemical companies of New Jersey could throw at it. Candy Corn Oreos. Watermelon Oreos. Birthday Cake Oreos. Each flavor more whorish and nauseating than the last.
What’s next? Draft-Dodging Oreos? Al-Qaeda Sympathizing Oreos??? OBAMA IS A MUSLIM HITLER ORE-
Whoops… whoops, sorry guys… I accidentally left the Jingoistic Nightmare Filter on. WordPress really has a lot of neat features, but the layout is CONFUSING. Anyway, so we were talking about Oreos; a fun cookie from our collective childhoods that’s now kind of in a bad headspace. Oreo has turned into such a DESPERATE cookie… everything to everybody, no identity of it’s own. With all the specialty flavors Nabisco is cranking out, and at the rate they’re doing so, I’m surprised they don’t all just taste like flop sweat. And, eventually that desperation will catch up to them. They’ll dilute the brand more and more, getting farther and farther away from what they were all about. Soon they’ll have nothing but vats of weird colored goo that was once those beloved, creamy middles, and cookies so soulless they’re practically ghosts. People will stop showing up, metaphorically speaking. Oreos will turn stale on the grocery store shelves. Plants will shut down. Millions of hard-working employees will lose their jobs. It will be just another stab wound, deep and gutting, contributing to the slow death of the American Dream.
SO WHO’S READY TO TASTE TEST SOME NEW OREO FLAVORS???
Up first…
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Oreos
I loved these… at first. Sure, they didn’t taste anything like actual chocolate chip cookie dough. They barely tasted like cookies! It was kind of like a crunchy carb-wad coated in the smell from a caramel-scented scratch n’ sniff sticker. But at the end of a hard day, isn’t that kind of all you need? The Olympics are on; lets watch a Dutch asshole kick our ass on the speed skating track, eat a fistful of these crapstacks, then zonk out for a few hours before the hellish dawn awakens us anew.
But after eating a few of them, I kind of lost interest. They were just so FAKE tasting. Picture whatever politician you like the least. Now think about him spewing forth lies about matters of policy. NOW imagine those lies are cookies. Blammo… Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Oreos.
All in all, I’d give them a C-, although I could see them being greatly improved by a dark beer, some smooth bourbon, or just a simple chaser of rubbing alcohol. Or, you know, dip them in milk. What am I, the Snack Gestapo?
Marshmallow Crispy Oreos
“Marshmallow Crispy,” my flat, unappealing ass. I bet Snap, Crackle, and Pop are absolutely FUMING about this one. There’s a goddamn Rice Krispie Treat on the package, but they don’t CALL it that… so it’s total legal. Just a big fuck you to those little elves and all their hard work. They’re totally real, by the way. Not just cartoon mascots. They’re living creatures and they’re VERY litigious. Hence the shenanigans.
ANYWAY, these cookies are a vast improvement over the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough jobbers. I think part of it is the vanilla cookie, instead of the chocolate. I feel like maybe I’ve reached a plateau in my life where I don’t need everything to be be all chocolate craziness all the time. Sometimes just a little sweet blandness is nice. This says a lot about how I’m getting older, I guess. How we’re ALL getting older. It’s like this: You stop going out to bars all the time, and then you cut down on drinking… soon you’re fine with Friday nights at home, watching the ol’ Netflix… months go by, then years… you find yourself turning down chocolate, preferring just a small dish of vanilla ice cream, or maybe just a sugared ice cube… and then, on a night seemingly like any other, you turn on the lights in the bathroom and shriek startled, at the swollen, elderly person in the mirror, hideously twisted and ravaged by age, and you shriek even louder when you realize that person is you. THAT’S what liking vanilla over chocolate feels like. Sad and cold and lonesome. Just like how we die.
Oh wait, the frosting goo in the middle has little crispy bits of puffed rice in it! Totally forgot about that. Never mind, I’m not old. That’s like the cookie version of BASE Jumping.
I give the Marshmallow Crispy Oreos a solid B. Pair them with a cup of weak tea, a book you bought at Target, and a lap cat, and you’ve got a perfectly balanced night of zaniness, comfort, and terrifying glimpses into the void of your own mortality.
zombie fights shark 