Pop(ular)-tarts
The sweet pink frosting that sparkles with a candy coating. The buttery golden brown crust. The fruity center that transforms into gloriously hot lava after just seconds in the toaster.
I love Pop-tarts as much as Iraqi citizens love the thought of having electricity and running water. Maybe more.
And why the glittery hell wouldn't I? It has served as a consistently delicioius and convenient to-go snack with the vitamins of a cupcake (niacin, B12-007-r, nothing) throughout my 264-month life. My mother used to send me to charm school with Pop-tarts in a lambskin satchel from my Granny Golenbeauski's meerkat farm.
Uninterestingly, I prefer the pastry not for breakfast, as promoted in its marketing, but instead as an afternoon or midnight treat. The latter is especially depressing.
My favorite flavors are Cherry or S'mores. My least favorite are Celery and Mitt Romney.
I love Pop-tarts as much as Iraqi citizens love the thought of having electricity and running water. Maybe more.
And why the glittery hell wouldn't I? It has served as a consistently delicioius and convenient to-go snack with the vitamins of a cupcake (niacin, B12-007-r, nothing) throughout my 264-month life. My mother used to send me to charm school with Pop-tarts in a lambskin satchel from my Granny Golenbeauski's meerkat farm.
Uninterestingly, I prefer the pastry not for breakfast, as promoted in its marketing, but instead as an afternoon or midnight treat. The latter is especially depressing.
My favorite flavors are Cherry or S'mores. My least favorite are Celery and Mitt Romney.
posted by Michelle at
9:55 PM
3 Comments:
I agree, nothing is more disgusting than a Mormon-flavored Pop Tart.
Pop Tarts, long the study of my academic rigor, have eluded me on one account: why are you only allowed to microwave them for three seconds, as the packaging warns?
sam, do you want us all dead? Oh wait, don't answer that.
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