I think one of the most common responses to my begrudging mentioni-er, casually handing someone my-er, passive-aggressively bringing up this website is a generally rhetorical question about my weight. How do you not gain weight? (I don't) How do you keep off weight? (Prayer and vomiting) And, the coup de grace, how are you so beautiful and sexy? (God made me in his image, obvs- bangable to the max, son.)
I like to think I have both the best interest of marketing and personal taste in mind when choosing items to review for this site, yet also the interests of my friends, family, personal trainer, and mortal enemies in my thoughts as well.
Talkin' to you, Scorpion.
But sometimes, solely for my own curiosity, I've just got to suck it up and review products that are neither fancy nor fit-making. I texted my mom while buying these Oreos in the grocery store. "For tonight's post, which one of these would shame you less? Oreos? Or frozen pizza?" I typed, vapidly scanning the latest California Pizza Kitchen bastardization and the new Freschetta "Pizza, Cookies, Leftover Cereal and My Cousin's Homemade Strain of Purple Diesel" kit for stoners and binge eaters. She said the Oreos, and off home I trudged. Little did she know that these were no regular Oreos, but mutated Oreos for the obese and biracial demographic. A cookie to bring home to Mom, assuming you're Fat Albert. Yes, I'm referring to the underground marketing American Beauty, the Triple Double Oreo, brought to you by Michele Obama's doppelganger, Ochele Mobama. Sounds a little evil. (Nabisco, why dun u answer my calls?????)
"Triple Double", as the artist's depiction presents above, is not three layers of Double Stuf creme. That would be, and is confirmed to be, pretty fucking gross. Though it's worth noting that the white creme gloopily adhered to the cookies while the chocolate creme slid off in a solid mass. In this review alone, I have more fodder for a sociology paper than I did the last semester of college. It is a triple layer of cookies, that is to say, three cookies, sandwiching two layers of creme in chocolate and standard hydrogenated flavor. Got that? Soon we'll move onto card counting, Raymond Babbitt.
Don't banter over the linguistics in the comments form, people. I've already consulted with Noam Chomsky on this one, whereupon receiving the email and attached sexy Oreo pixxx, he shot himself in the head. So the crab play on cookies with a quacker on filling pretty much confirms my theory that Nabisco is just phoning it in at this point. They're not very interesting at all. For starters, you'll see that the filling flavors are simply ones we've had before, but now they're crammed in a package in a lopsided formation worse than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Though it's clear that the Italians, with the exception of one Pauly D, would not touch these.
They couldn't even bother to make a separate middle cookie for these, that's how little thought there is invested in this new selection. That being said, I was surprised at how happy I was with the textures inside the cookie. The closest parallel I can draw is to the Reese's Crunchy Cookie Cup, with a layer of mush surrounding a layer of crunch. There is more crunch on the outside, but the inner texture is a welcome change from the gritty stickiness of the creme. The flavor of the two cremes is indistinguishable, and the overall flavor ends up tasting like a bulkier Oreo. Without milk, it was painful to consume, so I went with scotch instead. I imagine it would be better with the libation of your choice.
After the last bite, I was left feeling fairly apathetic, left only with a lust for the Crunchy Cookie Cup and a slight need to go run a few miles. The gym was closed, so I compromised by lighting the remainder of the package in front of the weight machines in a ritual sacrifice. If you're craving a crunchy cookie with a crunch in the middle and a special filling, the Oreo Fudge Cremes are probably a better choice, unless you're just dying to play a one-man pointy-edged version of Chubby Bunny with these behemoths.
Labels: 6, cookie, snack
Talkin' to you, Scorpion.
But sometimes, solely for my own curiosity, I've just got to suck it up and review products that are neither fancy nor fit-making. I texted my mom while buying these Oreos in the grocery store. "For tonight's post, which one of these would shame you less? Oreos? Or frozen pizza?" I typed, vapidly scanning the latest California Pizza Kitchen bastardization and the new Freschetta "Pizza, Cookies, Leftover Cereal and My Cousin's Homemade Strain of Purple Diesel" kit for stoners and binge eaters. She said the Oreos, and off home I trudged. Little did she know that these were no regular Oreos, but mutated Oreos for the obese and biracial demographic. A cookie to bring home to Mom, assuming you're Fat Albert. Yes, I'm referring to the underground marketing American Beauty, the Triple Double Oreo, brought to you by Michele Obama's doppelganger, Ochele Mobama. Sounds a little evil. (Nabisco, why dun u answer my calls?????)
"Triple Double", as the artist's depiction presents above, is not three layers of Double Stuf creme. That would be, and is confirmed to be, pretty fucking gross. Though it's worth noting that the white creme gloopily adhered to the cookies while the chocolate creme slid off in a solid mass. In this review alone, I have more fodder for a sociology paper than I did the last semester of college. It is a triple layer of cookies, that is to say, three cookies, sandwiching two layers of creme in chocolate and standard hydrogenated flavor. Got that? Soon we'll move onto card counting, Raymond Babbitt.
Don't banter over the linguistics in the comments form, people. I've already consulted with Noam Chomsky on this one, whereupon receiving the email and attached sexy Oreo pixxx, he shot himself in the head. So the crab play on cookies with a quacker on filling pretty much confirms my theory that Nabisco is just phoning it in at this point. They're not very interesting at all. For starters, you'll see that the filling flavors are simply ones we've had before, but now they're crammed in a package in a lopsided formation worse than the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Though it's clear that the Italians, with the exception of one Pauly D, would not touch these.
They couldn't even bother to make a separate middle cookie for these, that's how little thought there is invested in this new selection. That being said, I was surprised at how happy I was with the textures inside the cookie. The closest parallel I can draw is to the Reese's Crunchy Cookie Cup, with a layer of mush surrounding a layer of crunch. There is more crunch on the outside, but the inner texture is a welcome change from the gritty stickiness of the creme. The flavor of the two cremes is indistinguishable, and the overall flavor ends up tasting like a bulkier Oreo. Without milk, it was painful to consume, so I went with scotch instead. I imagine it would be better with the libation of your choice.
After the last bite, I was left feeling fairly apathetic, left only with a lust for the Crunchy Cookie Cup and a slight need to go run a few miles. The gym was closed, so I compromised by lighting the remainder of the package in front of the weight machines in a ritual sacrifice. If you're craving a crunchy cookie with a crunch in the middle and a special filling, the Oreo Fudge Cremes are probably a better choice, unless you're just dying to play a one-man pointy-edged version of Chubby Bunny with these behemoths.