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June 27th, 2005 - Trickle of Consciousness — LiveJournal
That letter to Kraft got me thinking about food. Specifically, those foods which rule my life, steal my will, and otherwise require 12 step programs and/or a reverse-brainwashing camp to escape from. To that end, my list (in no real order) of evilly addictive foods (and, where appropriate, the pushers who peddle them):

Popcorn chicken - KFC. It's in a popcorn box, it's bite sized, and it's filled with colonel herbs. My only hope is to order the large rather than the "family" size, 'cause if I did the latter, it'd be Jason: family of one.

Nuclear mac and cheese - Boston Market, Kraft. Yes, I like the homemade, wholesome kind, but the combination of unnatural orange and "cheese" nearly liquid at room temperature makes the nuclear varieties oh so delectable. A box of Kraft mac and cheese is supposed to have several servings, or so the packaging tells me. The glowing, siren sauce, though, tells me quite the opposite. It's Homeric each time, trying to figure out if I'll be able to resist.

Crab rangoon. I blame gnadige for this one. A creamy maybe-crab concoction wrapped in a deep fried wonton (note: deep frying makes everything yummier, even though or possibly because it's so very bad for you). If I have to abandon all other Chinese foods to save the world from terrorism or something, I must continue to be a traitor for crab rangoon.

Velveeta and salsa - Velveeta (duh). That chili dip stuff they try to peddle on the commercials? bleh. But one of the only Superbowl parties I ever attended featured Velveeta and salsa microwaved into a horrifically gruesome sight which was nonetheless a holy vessel of gooey tastiness. Give me a bag of oversized tortilla chips, then get out of the way. Or at least wear a slicker if you're sticking around.

French fries - McDonald's. I think just about everyone I know who "Upsizes" a meal at the Mc does it either to get the giganamous soda or for the mountain of fries. I don't know anyone who actually wants a gluttonous amount of both of those peripherals. I'm a fry guy through and through. Only not as short or hairy and I have arms and a mouth. But I'm all over those fries.

Pulpless orange juice. Don't get me wrong. I love the sodas and the other unnaturally sugared beverages. I just tend to burn out on them. But OJ, so long as its de-pulped and thus a drink and not a meal, I can do for quite a while without needing to switch things up.

Peanut butter. Crunchy, smooth, doesn't matter. I don't need the bread or the jelly or the crackers or the bananas. I just need a big jar of peanut butter and a spoon and I am set with the snack food of champions.

Cheesy biscuits - Red Lobster. Without fail, I will devour the first basket of these while waiting for food, then make sure to ask for more, then sneak whatever's left into my leftover box (because, well, I filled up on the biscuits, so I always have leftovers). Yeah, Olive Garden breadsticks are good and all, but Red Lobster is the undisputed free bread winner. Or you can dispute it, but I'll pretty much ignore you because you're clearly under some sort of delusion and need to seek professional help before we engage in further conversation.

Food which no longer holds a mystical sway over me: garlic butter- Papa John's. In college, I only half-jokingly declared that Papa John's garlic butter could solve all the world's problems. But the once-creamy concoction has these days become some sort of half-assed, oil-separated ick that is only sometimes more butter-like than the stuff they spray on theater popcorn. Accordingly, my addiction has also separated from it. At least I still like the pizza.
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The Pickytarian mentions that Joe Quesada claims there's actually some small possibility I could one day have (an) Essential Power Pack collection(s). Would that this was more than a lot of noncommital doublespeak. I think it's no surprise my little brain would melt in ecstasy were I to get phonebook-sized Power Pack.

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