Category: humor

Awful Cereal Hall of Fame: Grape Nuts

I don’t know if there’s a Hall of Fame for Awful Cereal. I get that typically halls of fame are reserved for honoring good things, not detracting from bad things. And I get that maybe it should be a Hall of Infamy, but at that point, we’re really overthinking this a bit too much, aren’t we?

Regardless of whether or not something like a Hall of Fame for Awful Cereal (HFAC) should exist or not, I would like to think we could all agree on the simple fact that the first entry in the HFAC would be Grape Nuts.

I have had the misfortune of eating Grape Nuts twice in my life. The first time was at my brother’s. I was crashing there for the night, and when the morning came, it was time for breakfast. His supply left a fair bit to be desired. I can’t remember exactly what was there (Cheerios? Shredded wheat?) but whatever it was, it was missing my usual go-to dependables. Cocoa Puffs or Cocoa Krispies. (If your cereal isn’t giving you chocolate milk when you’re through with it, it’s not pulling its weight.) There were, however, Grape Nuts.

“Aha!” I said to myself. “I’ve never tried those before. I like grapes. I like nuts. These are gonna be great.”

One bowlful later, I discovered it’s a miracle Grape Nuts haven’t been hit with a false advertisement suit years ago. They contain neither grapes nor nuts. In fact, they’re basically kitty litter, but I suppose “Kitty Litter” as a cereal name didn’t score as well in their consumer research tests, so they decided to lie instead.

Not that I’ve ever tasted kitty litter, in case you were beginning to have your doubts. I mean, I’ve tasted Grape Nuts now, which already makes me pretty suspect, so I wouldn’t blame you for being suspicious about my history with consuming kitty litter. But Grape Nuts look like kitty litter: small pellets. They smell pretty much odorless, which I believe is the point of kitty litter. And if you swapped them out with your cat’s kitty litter, I’m willing to bet Mr. Bigglesworth wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Needless to say, I didn’t have a second bowl.

And yet somehow I was suckered into trying Grape Nuts again. Years had gone by, and I was having ice cream at a friend’s house. The flavor? Grape Nuts. I stared at the flavor name in confusion. It was like calling something “Dog Vomit Ice Cream” and hoping that would somehow sell more cartons. Except my friend wasn’t just eating the ice cream. He was enjoying it. He even said it was his favorite flavor.

I am not above admitting when I am wrong, and what did I know? Maybe when you added cream and sugar to Grape Nuts and then froze them for a while, they turned into some kind of awesome flavorfest. Did I want to miss out on a thing like that? Maybe the batch of Grape Nuts I’d had was stale, or maybe my brother had accidentally put kitty litter into his Grape Nuts back in the day.

Reader, I tried the ice cream.

Again, I’ve never put kitty litter on top of my ice cream before, but if I were ever try such a thing, I’m fairly confident I couldn’t have a worse experience with that flavor than with what I put in my mouth that day.

Friends don’t let friends eat Grape Nuts. Period.

There are other cereal brands that belong in the HFAC. Original Cap’n Crunch has cut my mouth more times than I’d like to admit. Rice Krispies are borderline, because if you don’t literally inhale them the moment you add milk to the mixture, you’re left with Rice Mush. I’m not honestly sure what Apple Jacks are trying to accomplish, but whatever it is, they’re failing.

But they all pale before the horror that is Grape Nuts.


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If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

Doctor Evil for President 2020

I think it’s high time we injected some class and substance into our political rhetoric. I’ve been disappointed in our current administration, and I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with someone we can all get behind. Someone who stands for something. Who will unite the country under one common goal. And that’s why I’ve chosen to officially endorse Dr. Evil for president.

True, he isn’t running yet. And true, he’s a fictional character, but I don’t think little things like “he doesn’t actually exist” should get in the way of a person’s dream of becoming president. I mean, I’m positive that he’d accept the nomination, if he were around to do so. He’s bent on global domination, and he’d probably do it for a million dollars. Maybe even less.

What does Dr. Evil have going for him? I’m glad you asked.

  1. He’s a family man. He’s spent years trying to understand how to relate to his son, Scott. But better yet, he knows there’s a line. A time and a place for family. I’m not worried Scott would suddenly pop up in some governmental position. Those would be reserved for true experts like Number Two and Frau Farbissina. Real go getters who stay on task. No need to worry about nepotism under Dr. Evil.
  2. He’s dealt with loss. Mini-Me passed away last year. While Dr. Evil didn’t make a public statement at the time (no doubt too overcome with grief to do so), I’m confident that brush with death has changed him for the better and made him understand the realities of normal people in a way our current president can never really comprehend.
  3. He learns from his mistakes. When things didn’t go his way, he was able to recognize it was time to try a different approach. For example, he once asked for a million dollar ransom when he had the world hostage. When he discovered (by listening to his aides) that he’d lowballed his estimate, he didn’t dig in and insist he was right. Instead, he acknowledged his error and increased the ransom instead. That ability to admit fault is something I haven’t seen in a president since 2016. It’s a key component to true leadership.
  4. He knows there’s a time and a place for cruel and unusual punishment, and he can recognize the best way to get that job done. Dr. Evil would never call for our southern border to be filled with snakes and alligators. Not even ill-tempered ones. He reserves those for elaborate schemes to defeat Austin Powers, not refugees fleeing for their lives. And if you’ve seen The Love Guru, I think we can all agree Austin Powers has earned a bit of cruel and unusual punishment.
  5. He loves animals. The constant way he cares for and attends to all of Mr. Bigglesworth’s needs makes me confident he has the compassion needed to actually care about some of the people who might not agree with him. That would be an infinite improvement over our current situation.
  6. He’s already had experience running government. True, it was as part of the Trump administration, but that at least means he has an idea what the job requires, and perhaps he’ll have learned from that experience

Actually, it seems like he’s already announced his candidacy. Zuckerberg was a strange choice, but I’m willing to run with it.

I’ll finish with a message direct from the candidate himself.

Dr. Evil 2020: It Can’t Be Any Worse than What We’ve Got Now.


Like what you’ve read? Please consider supporting me on Patreon. Thanks to all my Patrons who support me! It only takes a minute or two, and then it’s automatic from there on out. I’ve posted the entirety of my book ICHABOD in installments, and I’m now putting up chapters from PAWN OF THE DEAD, another of my unreleased books. Where else are you going to get the undead and muppets all in the same YA package? Check it out.

If you’d rather not sign up for Patreon, you can also support the site by clicking the MEMORY THIEF Amazon link on the right of the page. That will take you to Amazon, where you can buy my books or anything else. During that visit, a portion of your purchase will go to me. It won’t cost you anything extra.

One Mop to Rule Them All

We’ve gone through various mopping solutions over the years. (Hey–it’s a busy day, and I don’t have a lot of time to think of topics. AND I think this one could help some of you out there. So if you’ve got any complaints, speak with my manager.) For a while, Denisa used this steam mop thing that I swore was going to explode any second. Then we switched to reusable Swiffer things. But the Swiffer was made for people who must be about three apples tall. My back would kill every time I used it.

And then it broke in half the last time I was mopping. I am literally too much man for that mop. I had to put it back together with duct tape just to finish the job.

So Denisa added “Mop” to her Christmas wishlist, because she’s entirely too practical. And she did a ton of research and settled on The Mop that was The One For Us. “It’s reusable. It’s big. It’s supposed to be great,” she told me.

“This is a mop, right?” I asked. But I am nothing if not dutiful when it comes to following lists. So I ordered the mop. I didn’t wrap it, though, because that thing was a beast, and there’s no way to wrap a mop in any way that doesn’t end up screaming “I AM A MOP” while it’s sitting under the Christmas tree. So I left it in the box, stuck a bow on it, and called it good.

Denisa used the mop. She said it was wonderful. She laughed. She cried. It was better than Cats.

I thought that was a bit of an extreme reaction, for a mop. Then I made the chores chart, and last week I had to mop again. This mop is like a grown up Swiffer. You get the microfiber pad, get it wet with plain water, wring it out, and then stick it on the end of the mop. Then you use it until it’s too dry to mop anymore, at which point you go back to step one and repeat.

Friends, this mop is awesome. It’s wide, so you get your mopping done wicked fast. It’s tough, so you can scrub through stains like a pro, and it has a handle that’s actually made for people of all sizes. My back didn’t even hurt. Plus, if ninjas ever invade our house again, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to use this mop to battle off at least three or four of them while Denisa takes out the rest with that steam mop thing.

In other words, if you’re looking for a mopping solution, you’ve come to the right place.

You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. It’s better than Cats.

Why Did the Turkey Cross the Road?

Forget chickens, people. If a chicken crosses the road, it’s not going to do much to your car, even at freeway speeds. I’m thinking you’ll get something like a brief white burst of feathers, and then you might have to run the wipers a bit, but nothing structural. Nothing that might involve calling your insurance company.

Turkeys, on the other hand . . .

There I was on Friday. Zip zooming my way to Bangor for my monthly directors meeting. Minding my own business. I love wildlife and my car, and I didn’t set out to harm either one of them that morning. All is well in the world. Until (for some inexplicable reason) a turkey decided that the best time to cross the freeway would be right when my car was coming.

This is Maine, people. it’s not exactly bumper to bumper traffic nonstop. If that turkey had wanted to cross the road, there were many many times it could do so without coming anywhere near an automobile, let alone my automobile.

But no. It chose that precise time. And those turkeys have evolved to blend into the underbrush, folks. It swooped in out of nowhere from my right. One minute, I was looking at a completely turkey-free road, and the next, there’s this large something racing in from the side.

You’d think I wouldn’t have had time to think. That it would have been too fast to come up with a plan. But I distinctly remember having three plans flash through my head the moment I saw the turkey:

  1. Swerve to miss it. This was my first instinct, but when put up for a nomination, the rest of my mind voted it down. Swerving at freeway speeds seldom ends in good things.
  2. Slam on the brakes. Again, dismissed on the grounds that I didn’t have time to check and see who was behind me.
  3. Hit the thing dead on. Nobody spoke up against the idea, so that’s what I went with.

There was a loud thud, and a puff of feathers, along with a limp bird body that got thrown up onto my windshield. I had enough time to think “That’s a turkey!” before the wind caught it and flung it to the side of the road.

“What do I do now?” I wondered. The turkey was off to the side–and quickly disappearing in the rearview mirror. Do I stop and check on it? The thought of me scurrying around the freeway after a demolished Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t too pleasant, and since I knew the thing was well out of the road, I kept driving. Then came the more important question:

Did it do anything to my car?

I mean, I love me some animals, but that turkey had it coming, and my car didn’t. Still, I didn’t hear any noises, and nothing seemed to be broken, so I kept driving.

When I arrived in Bangor, I assessed the damage. It’s up on Facebook if you want to head over and check it out, but it’s not pretty. Significant dent in the hood, broken grill. It’s like my car is missing a few teeth in its lovely smile.

So I’ve been on the phone with the insurance company, and I’m going to get an estimate tomorrow morning. Really, at this point it’s just an irritant, and I realize it could have been much worse. (Anytime you’re driving 70mph and hit something, there’s a whole lot of things that can go wrong.)

But I just can’t help wondering over and over: WHY? Why did the turkey cross the road. WHY???

Potential answers?

  • It was the chicken’s day off.
  • To escape Thanksgiving.
  • Because he wasn’t a chicken.
  • ???

Culturfying My Kids: Weird Al and Michael Jackson

If you’ve been following my posts, you might recall one I wrote a while ago all about showing my kids Michael Jackson and introducing them to the Moon Walk. I’d enjoyed that experience so much, last night I decided the time and come for another “culture moment.”

First up? Showing my kids the music video to Bad. Nothing says late 80s cool like this. It sums it all up in a nice, tidy package. They teach in school when they do the 80s section, right? RIGHT?

This was really just supposed to be the foundation for what was to come, but it brought up several important questions that had to be answered–most of them by DC (my six year old daughter).

  • Why is he wearing all those buckles?
  • Can I get a jacket with that many buckles?
  • Why is he so happy that he’s bad?
  • If I go to school tomorrow and tell everyone that I’m really bad, will I be cool too?
  • What happened to his nose?
  • Why is he standing in front of that grate with all that wind?

These were questions that just didn’t get asked back in the day. (Well, maybe some of them did.) And so I had to explain how cool these music videos were at the time, and how everybody would watch them and talk about them. I think this did nothing more than cement in my kids’ mind the idea that I really must be clueless when it comes to judgment calls. Great.


All of it turned out to be well worth it, because then I got to show them this:

And suddenly, it all made sense to my kids. They were laughing through the whole thing, though DC was a bit confused why they were making fun of the other video so much. (She might still have been attached to the idea of a jacket with all those buckles . . .) TRC thought it was pretty much the funniest thing ever. So that was good.

I hadn’t watched the parody video in years, and I think if anything, it’s gotten funnier in the intervening time. Why? For one thing, the “Bad” video just looks pretentious and strange now. It’s no longer “cool,” though you can clearly see how cool the people in the video thought it was. And so to have Weird Al come along and lampoon it that easily . . . we’re talking T ball here, folks. Comedy gold.

Anyway. Just thought I’d pass that on to you, if any of you are looking for some interesting family activities over the next bit. It was a fun-filled fifteen minutes at the Bryce household.

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