Last night i had an Avo LE5. It was wonderful. I thought,while I smoked it, how nicely a fig newton would have gone withthe experience. That put me in the mood for a fig newton. So, this morning, I went to the vending machine and got some fat-free fig newtons.
I hope you enjpoy the review as much as I enjoyed writing it.
First, I opened the package. The familiar yellow wrapper, with the addition of "fat free" in a ribbon in the upper right hand corner. It was, as it turns out, not the same old wrapper, but a nearly impenetrable foil-like force-field, obviosly created by the American Fat Counsel to coerce us back to full-fat foods. Once my fingers cramped and hands were sweaty from trying the old fashioned way, I moved to to snapping my teeth together a half dozen time, rattling my brain in the process, only to strip a bit of the yellow off (best tasting thing about this snack...but more on that later) in my mouth. Finally, using scissors off my desk, i was able to cut the beast open, revealing what looked to be fig newtons.
The cookies: They sure felt like fig newtons. Looked like fig newtons, smelled like fig newtons. So I bit into one. The intial mouth-feel and texutre, sure reminded me of fig newtons. They tasted like....you guessed it....a cake of soap that has been left under the rotting carcass of road kill in the sun for a week or two. The inital taste is of chalk and soap. Followed up by a fruit-like semi-sweetness that would not induce vomiting, if not for the subtle undertones of sweaty underpants that rise up like acid reflux onto the palate the minute the goo starts to spread ont he tongue. Then, after forcing a swallow, is when the real fun starts. The aftertaste (less a taste, and more an "experience") is where the gamey rotted flesh aspect really comes into its own. It sits in my mouth tasting like a mix between that smell that a gerbil cage gets if you don't clean it out regularly and a dead stripper. It's OK, I have some coffee here, I'll jsut go ahead and wash it down....NOPE! Apparently, this concoction, most likely originally developed as a less-lethal demoralizing agent by our military, is heat activated. BLAM! Like heat hitting whisky, sake, or brandy, the more, shall I say, aromatic, qualities of the dread stank exploded through my mouth and nasal cavities like a the acrid flows of Vesuvius targeting the Herculaneum of my senses.
All in all, on a scale of 1-10, 1 being licking the chair at an STD clinic in a Leper COlony, and 10 being The Nectar of the Gods, I will go ahead and give the FatFree FIg Newtons a "What the hell were youthinking? Don't taste testers taste anything? I want my freaking 69 cents back, you assholes!"
In closing, go ahead and have the couple grams of fat. If we were THAT worried about our appearance, we wouldn't walk around with 6 inch long burning sticks of rolled up tobacco in our mouths.
Thanks for reading,
Josh
I hope you enjpoy the review as much as I enjoyed writing it.
First, I opened the package. The familiar yellow wrapper, with the addition of "fat free" in a ribbon in the upper right hand corner. It was, as it turns out, not the same old wrapper, but a nearly impenetrable foil-like force-field, obviosly created by the American Fat Counsel to coerce us back to full-fat foods. Once my fingers cramped and hands were sweaty from trying the old fashioned way, I moved to to snapping my teeth together a half dozen time, rattling my brain in the process, only to strip a bit of the yellow off (best tasting thing about this snack...but more on that later) in my mouth. Finally, using scissors off my desk, i was able to cut the beast open, revealing what looked to be fig newtons.
The cookies: They sure felt like fig newtons. Looked like fig newtons, smelled like fig newtons. So I bit into one. The intial mouth-feel and texutre, sure reminded me of fig newtons. They tasted like....you guessed it....a cake of soap that has been left under the rotting carcass of road kill in the sun for a week or two. The inital taste is of chalk and soap. Followed up by a fruit-like semi-sweetness that would not induce vomiting, if not for the subtle undertones of sweaty underpants that rise up like acid reflux onto the palate the minute the goo starts to spread ont he tongue. Then, after forcing a swallow, is when the real fun starts. The aftertaste (less a taste, and more an "experience") is where the gamey rotted flesh aspect really comes into its own. It sits in my mouth tasting like a mix between that smell that a gerbil cage gets if you don't clean it out regularly and a dead stripper. It's OK, I have some coffee here, I'll jsut go ahead and wash it down....NOPE! Apparently, this concoction, most likely originally developed as a less-lethal demoralizing agent by our military, is heat activated. BLAM! Like heat hitting whisky, sake, or brandy, the more, shall I say, aromatic, qualities of the dread stank exploded through my mouth and nasal cavities like a the acrid flows of Vesuvius targeting the Herculaneum of my senses.
All in all, on a scale of 1-10, 1 being licking the chair at an STD clinic in a Leper COlony, and 10 being The Nectar of the Gods, I will go ahead and give the FatFree FIg Newtons a "What the hell were youthinking? Don't taste testers taste anything? I want my freaking 69 cents back, you assholes!"
In closing, go ahead and have the couple grams of fat. If we were THAT worried about our appearance, we wouldn't walk around with 6 inch long burning sticks of rolled up tobacco in our mouths.
Thanks for reading,
Josh
