One of the greatest national debates of our time: Are you a Cocoa Pebbles fan or a Fruity Pebbles fan? Sure, with Cocoa Pebbles you got to drink the chocolate milk at the end, but Fruity Pebbles were prettier. And me likey pretty.
The person who came up with the idea to mashup pizza and egg rolls should be given the Nobel Prize for Physics for such brilliance. They also should be scissor-kicked in the back of the neck for creating a new addiction for millions of teens everywhere.
Come on, of course we would eat these now. We'd eat them every morning for breakfast if we thought we could get a way with it. But we can't, cause nothing is worse than being at your office eating a Pop Tart and someone walking by and saying, "Pop Tarts? Really?"*
We all had our favorites and debated furiously over which flavor was the best. Some of us like Fruit Punch (moi). Others swore by Pacific Cooler. Yet, if you had to drink them now you'd say they all tasted like sugary water. Still, awesome pouch.
On all that is holy on Easter Sunday, what the hell were we thinking? (See? See what I did there?) Why did we think these were not just good, but great? I personally would shove three or four in my mouth at one time without regard for any sort of societal norm.
This was the "fancy" drink you'd get when you went out to a nice restaurant with your folks: ginger ale, copious amounts of grenadine and about 700 maraschino cherries. You drank it and never felt more alive.
Try saying this without looking ridiculous, sad, or ridiculously sad: "Girl, why don't you come on over tonight, I'll light some candles, put on some Luther Vandross, and then I will cook you up some of the fiercest Beefaroni you have ever had."
Yes, you could probably get away with drinking Orange Crush as an adult. And maybe, just maybe, if you were at a kid's birthday party you could have a sip or two of the Grape. But if you are over the age of 10, you just can't swing the Strawberry, so pour a little on the ground out of respect for the deceased.