film / tv / substack / social media / lists / web / celeb / pajiba love / misc / about / cbr
film / tv / substack / web / celeb


Other “Definitive” Lists Can Suck It. It’s Skitz’s 6th Annual Guide to Slipping Into a Halloween Sugar Coma.

By Skittimus Maximus | Miscellaneous | October 31, 2014 |

By Skittimus Maximus | Miscellaneous | October 31, 2014 |


01. Butterfinger Peanut Butter Cups — More often than not, I’ll opt for the bite-sized Butterfinger and/or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups over the full-sized version(s), but I’ll tell you what — the twisted genius who decided to merge the two together should be awarded the candy equivalent of the Nobel Prize. The first time I ate one, it was as though a delightful chocolate angel squeezed a Butterfinger-shrapnelled turd straight into my mouth. It’s the only item I’ve consumed in my car while in the parking lot and immediately walked straight back into the store for another, aside from that time I grabbed a second half-pint of Jameson on my way to treatment.

02. Ring Pops — FUN FACT 1: Ring Pops are manufactured by Topps, the same company responsible for cranking out the baseball cards your mom stupidly threw out, thereby ruining any hopes you may have had of being able to retire before ninety. FUN FACT 2: Engineer Frank Richards is the brainchild behind the fruity jewelry; he came up with the idea out of sheer desperation while trying to get his daughter to quit sucking her goddam thumb. FUN FACT 3: Provided you aim your Ring-Pop punch just right, you can send the bigger kid who had intentions of swiping your candy straight to the ER with a gauze-packed ocular socket. Bonus points if you eat the Ring-Pop while watching the ambulance drive away.

03. Those Gigantic-ass Licorice Ropes — I don’t even remember (or care) if they had a name. All I know is that my sister and I would trick-or-treat in my Step-Grandparent’s neighborhood, where they had some wealthy retiree neighbors that used thumb their noses at the very notion of anything “bite-sized.” Those silver-haired harbingers of joy wouldn’t just hand out full-sized candy bars, but your bag’d get heavy with a couple of them. One year they handed out tangled wads of licorice ropes that had to be at least three feet long, and the next morning my sister and I immediately went to work braiding intricate wearables. We spent the day like royalty, strutting about in our tiaras and necklaces, pausing only to take the occasional nibble from them and lament how children in poorer neighborhoods would never experience the joy of strawberry-flavored baubles. Then we’d have meatless Hamburger Helper for dinner. Again. Because we were broke as shit.

04. Good & Plenty — Shut up about the black licorice part of it, and hear me out. Aside from being a fantastic way to get attention when you down a handful of the white ones you’ve pre-loaded into an empty Tylenol bottle, the pink ones are colored with K-Carmine, a red dye produced from the CRUSHED FUCKING BODIES of the female cochineal insect. How badass is that?! Additionally, some fancy-pants neurological director at the Chicago Smell & Taste Treatment Research Foundation found that smelling the stank of Good & Plenty cranked out a thirteen percent increase of vaginal blood flow in the majority of people that have a vagina. Probably explains why your mom used to huff the inside of your plastic pumpkin while grinding against the arm of the sofa every year. Share that with your therapist, pervo.

05. Tacos - Just let me have this one, man. It’s late, tacos are good, and I’m on my sixth year of this crap.


01. Nerds — I used to love Nerds when I was a kid. Nowadays, they’re my handy go-to when determining whether or not it’s time to make an appointment with my dentist. I’ll sprinkle a bunch in my mouth and, for a brief moment, I’m transported back to 1984 (before diddling myself became an all-controlling juggernaut, and I still thought electric cable spool tables were cool). Then the sugar-coated sugar crystals hit my dwindling enamel and I’m instantly slapped back to the harsh reality of skyrocketing-deductibles and how much I miss that coffee table I lost in the divorce.

02. Circus Peanuts — There is nothing good about these. Nothing. You know you done mucked up your confectionery abomination when four-out-of-five double-blind taste-testers prefer the flavor of packing peanuts over Circus Peanuts. In fact, did you know they’re made in the same factory? True story. They were shat into existence when a disgruntled employee chucked a bag of moldy oranges into a vat of polystyrene, hoping to gunk up the machinery. His attempts were thwarted, however, when Mr. Styrene (yes, that’s his real name - I fucking internetted it) said — and I quote — “Screw it. Let’s finish out the batch and ship ‘em off to the orphanage. They were born without loving parents or taste buds.”

03. Flavored Tootsie Rolls — I bitched about regular Tootsie Rolls a couple years back, so it’s pointless to go on about the how and why of their overall suckiness. But the sheer fact that these fucking things even exist proves that God isn’t done being angry at us and we should probably start building an ark or something before ebola goes airborne, impregnates our clouds with diseased rain, and the Apocalypse Flood kicks in. Which will totally be Obama’s fault, by the way.

04. Jelly Belly Beanboozled Jelly Beans — The premise behind these is neat as hell. What you essentially get is ten different colored jelly beans, but the kicker is that each color can be one of two flavors: one good, and one bad. Right now, you’re probably shrieking something along the lines of “WHY THAT SOUNDS LIKE A TASTY JELLYBEAN ROULETTE, SKITZ! HOW FUN!” My God, you couldn’t possibly be any wronger. Example? You get a light green jellybean, it’s either going to taste like a succulent pear or perhaps, fate will kick you in the peehole and that bean’ll taste like a salty booger. Other examples include: caramel corn/moldy cheese, licorice/skunk spray, and my personal favorite, peach/barf. You read that right. Barf. It tasted like the acid reflux I’d get when I used to get drunk on boxed shiraz and eat leftover BBQ that was decidedly past its prime. My special ladyfriend? She was pulling for a chocolate pudding and seconds later was retching — RETCHING — at the kitchen sink because the taste of canned dog food proved to be too much to handle. She almost threw up in the sink, you guys. And I’ve seen that bitch eat a pickled beet.

05. Sixlets — Nice try, but no. Sixlets are nothing but a lousier knock-off version of the knock-off M&M’s you’d find in a bag of trail mix shoplifted from the Dollar Tree. Not only are there eight of them per stupid cellophane tube, making the name itself a goddam fallacy, but - get this - when I typed “Sixlets” at the beginning of this? Spellcheck insisted I change it to “Sexless.” Worst of all? They’re made in Canada. They don’t even believe in Jesus down there. Case closed.