TheSnackHound

All of you are about to be so jealous of me, and you don’t know it yet (Well, at least the girls are.  The boys are just going to be a bit miffed that they didn’t think about getting it for THEIR gal).  I recieved this most beauteous watch as a gift for Valentine’s Day! It is pink and white and yellow and green and fits me perfectly!!!  I love it!

Since I have very small wrists, most bracelets and watches are too big.  I had to make sure to tuck my thumb in when stretching it over my hand, as I believe this was intended to be a child’s size, but the giver of it knew that it would probably fit just right (As the giver was my mom and she has small wrists too so she knows, but not as small as mine. Small enough to sympathize, though.).   I know those of you who are of the larger (read: NORMAL) framed variety are disgruntled because for once, I could get the cute watch and don’t have to pay a bazillion dollars to take 50 links out of it while you sit back and can wear it off the rack.

To make a long story short, The SnackHound doesn’t have a Valentine this year.  I didn’t want to break your jolly mood, but during one of my brief hiatuses from posting many, many, months and possibly years back, there was a corporate dispersement, causing the disassembly of The Snack Hound Corporate Test Kitchen.  In fact, there was a little reorganization of staff as well.  It was a sad state of affairs indeed.

I thought about getting fixed up and walking the little snackhounds (snackhounds= The Doxies.  You think I am crazy enough to walk a Blog or a Wooden cracker tray?) downtown.  However, I was moping around a bit too much and decided to prepare myself a can of Amy’s Cream of Mushroom Soup instead.

I was pleasantly surprised by my new watch, and I proceeded to photograph it.  You would be impressed because I took the photo with the camera under my chin.  How else would I have taken it with both hands in the photo?   In the meantime, the liquid in the soup boiled down to almost nothing.  Oh.  Whoops.  If there was such a use for “Cream of Mushroom Soup Reduction” in a fancy French recipe, I think I aced it, even if it is a bit crusty.  Unfortunately, I don’t know any.

So, for all of the goody two shoes out there who got two dozen red roses from their boyfriend or husband, or who are a guy who got cologne or something, I can put my Valentine’s Day Present in a plastic baggie and save it for next year if I want to, but you can’t do that with your flowers.   I don’t think my watch will last that long, because I think while holding my dog on my lap, he tried to lick it.

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This week,  I made a major revelation to a good friend of mine.  I won’t mention her name as I didn’t tell her that I was .  You see, she was unaware that Candy Cigarettes are now called Candy Sticks.  Why is that?  Because people decided that the candy would encourage children to smoke.  I say that the particular ship sailed somewhere around 1958.  if candy cigarettes were to have an effect, they had already done their damage. and smoking in 2008 is on the decline.  Any legislative change would be just like pushing water up a hill with a fork.   In fact, any child who thought candy cigarettes were delish, and then tried a tobacco cigarette thinking it would be the same would have been so repulsed by the differing taste that they would have sworn never to smoke again in their life.

Doubt me?

I turn to theater great Uta Hagen**, who not only was an accomplished actress, but found further fame as an acting teacher.  She bandied about the Staniskavski method, which to you all, is method acting.   There were some situations where an actor could get into such a mindset that when they supped a glass of apple juice on stage it would taste like beer to them, or have the same effect.  What you never wanted to do to an actor would be to have water pretend to be vodka on stage, and then one night during a show, replace it with something else.  Either real vodka or a trendy flavored water.  It literally could be a shock to the system for them as their body wasn’t expecting it.

In otherwords, you think all of these pretty boys who decide to turn to the stage have no working hazards…you are WRONG!

What was I talking about?  Oh…yes.  I was talking about people dying of shock that real cigarettes didn’t taste like candy cigarettes.

(**= Just a little sidebar here. I came THIS close to meeting Uta Hagen!!  I was walking in the lobby of a theater.  In fact, I was in the basement at the black box theater, and I came up the stairs into the lobby.  Behind the big wooden doors of the main stage, down the aisle, and on the stage was Uta herself.   I could just slightly make out the sound of her voice, even though the door was closed, as the theater had excellent accoustics and she knew how to work it.  I dared not open the door, because everyone would have turned around as the door was very heavy and very creaky and I would not have wanted to potentially meet her in combat boots, ripped jeans, a leotard top with a flannel shirt tied around my waist.  No wait, it was tied around my shoulders.  Preppy grunge.  I thought i looked pretty sweet.  But then again, everyone else thought they did too, but at least I showered. I DID however get to meet John Henry.  The horse. You know, who came off of Arlington track and took the racing world by storm.   I saw him many years ago way before he passed away of old age.  Since Uta Hagen is dead too, I won’t get a chance to meet her before she dies.

Okay…back to the blog post…)

Now, in modern times, these candies are called CANDY Sticks.  It is a less cigarette-y name, but the candy actually looks identical.  In fact, some makers even make them with the small pink tip that some of them used to have.  The good news is that the taste and texture that you have come to expect has not changed.  They are more neutral a flavor than the SweetTarts or Smarties.  They are closer to what candy necklaces used to tastes like before they started getting all harsh and stuff.

I just have a question…what does Spider-Man have to do with candy sticks, and also, when did he hyphenate his name?  I just thought he was Spiderman, but apparently, he started hyphenating at some point, or perhaps it is not about marital status or his wish to be a compound noun, but a reflection of his packaging not being produced in an English speaking nation?  I won’t know until i snag an exclusive interview like I have had with Wendy, of the League of Suppression of Celery, that is not the justice league, but a member of the Association of Leagues along with the Justice League.  the League of Leagues is not an autocratic body, but rather gives you use of emergency red phones or busts that have heads that flip open to reveal secret buttons.  The Human League was not invited, but there is acknowledgment they existed as they drilled the “I’m Only Human” song into our heads.  There could be a League Against the Human League though.

So, the natural question you would have for me:  Was I for or against the name change.  Actually, it sort of just creeped up like a fog over Boston.  I took it for granted and one day realized what had slowly happened.   I think children are now a little confused.  What about those straight, long peppermint things that are in jars at old fashioned ice cream shops?  I thought THOSE were candy sticks.  Since there are not too many of those except near cider mills, maybe the candy stick people brokered a deal somewhere, somehow, to make sure the old fashioned candy sticks were not called anything at all.

What did we learn today?
1. Candy Cigarettes are now Candy Sticks
2. The didn’t influence me to smoke as a child or an adult
3. They did, however, probably help put my dentist’s children through school.
4. I never met Uta Hagen due to my poor fashion choices that I thought were cool but apparently, somewhere in my subconscious, I wasn’t too sure. If I really thought I was a good impression, i would not have been deterred from a learning experience.

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Do you remember the diet based on the book Eat Right for Your Blood Type?  It was popular in the late 90s, or at least popular in some circles.  Basically, Peter J. D’Adamo and Catherine Whitney proposed that the best diet depeneded on what blood type you had.  Supposedly, you had different digestive capabilities than other people.  They concluded that if you your blood type was O, that was the first blood type that there was, so you should eat lots of meat and dine on saber toothed tigers and avoid wheat.  Just kidding about the tigers.  Type AB was rarer, and if you had AB blood, you should adopt a mediterranean diet of seafood, nuts, and olive oil.

A friend of mine swore by this.  Then again, the book told her to eat lots of nuts, fish, and olive oil, and isn’t that the ideal diet anyways?  I really hated a lot of the foods it told me to eat.  Supposedly, they say when the type O evolved, people weren’t farming and eating grains, they were nomadic and chasing down meat.  Grains were not allowed.  Isn’t that the Atkins diet?  Apparently, my friend descended from much more sophisticated people.

What if you had a bone marrow transplant and you started producing a different blood type than you were born with.  What diet would you go with.  Of course, I would imagine the donor would be a match, but I am just saying.

Despite some of the rave reviews the book got, I thought that this diet was a piece of crap.  Maybe some of the individual diets worked, but anyone telling me I would get in shape by eating a slab of ribs is right.  I WOULD lose the weight but it would be from not eating, not from my blood feeling harmony with the antiquity of my diet plan.

By the way, in case you were wondering, above is the New Zealand mascot for blood donation services.  I think if America had someone like him, the blood banks would be full because people like mascots.  Personally, he seems to almost be a rip off of MacDonald’s “Mac Tonight” guy.  But he’s red.  And he’s blood.  And he doesn’t have any clothes on.  And he looks more like a “Mr. Men and Little Miss” form the 70s.

“Hey, little boy, you can’t give blood…you only weigh 42 pounds!”

“But I want to be like the blood droplet dude!”

“Hmm…I wish Joe Camel was still around…these kids would go home and leave me alone.”

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Tomorrow, everyone in America gets a free Grand Slam breakfast.  Just stop in to your participating Denny’s between 6:00 A.M. and 2:00 P.M. to chow down! It was advertised during the SuperBowl yesterday via this commercial. I was watching the game with my dad, and I think we just sort of looked at eachother to seem to say “What the heck was that?” I just love quirky and strange commercials. I thought that Nannerpuss losing one stick on googly eyeball was a nice touch.

Tomorrow, check in here if you got your free breakfast. Was it total chaos at your Denny’s?

Oh…by the way…would you trust a Banana who was wearing a moustache?  What about a banana who was singing about liking bananas?  Kind of warped and cannibalistic, no?  Or maybe that’s like a man saying he likes women….the banana was just stating his preference for other banana-Americans rather than wishing to marry a pineapple or a turnip.  Perhaps I have it all wrong, and Nannerpuss was about to say that he likes Pancakes, not Nanners.

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When I cam across this auction, I knew that I had to report to you about it.  You see, there is a woman in Maine who is selling a magical apple.  This said apple was purchased when said woman was pregnant, and apparently in the phase of wanting to purchase apples.  Apparently, this lovely red apple was never eaten.  Time went by, said woman gave birth to a baby girl.  The baby is now eight months old, making the apple over a year old.

While time has marched on, the apple remains the same in its Red Delicious splendor.  Therefore, the unblemished, unrotted apple has been deemed magical.  Because of the economic times the owner of this apple has befallen, although she probably hates to part with this prized possession, the apple is now on the auction block.  The starting bid is just .01.  Of course, the starting bid does not reflect the true value of the apple, but is an enticement for the obvious bidding war that will ensue.

(Just a sidenote:  There is a produce sticker on the side of the apple.  At a much earlier date, we all learned exactly what the four digit code means.  As this apple sports four digits, it means it is a conventional apple.  It is not organic, yet not Frankenfood either.  Just your innocent, regular, everday apple minding its business.  According the International Federation for Produce Fruit Standards, it is considered a “small” Red Delicious apple under 100 size…whatever 100 indicates.)

If you don’t believe me, click here and see the auction for yourself.   Shipping is free.  That means, you could buy this apple much more economically than rolling down to the grocery store today.  How can you calculate the depreciation of an apple once it has left the store?  Is there such a thing?  Perhaps the subject has not come up because no one expects an apple to celebrate a birthday or anniversary.

There are theories for this.  Maybe just my own.  I suspect that this apple could have survived for one of two reasons.   The quality of the owner’s refrigerator is top of the line, and the apple has been carefully preserved as a result.  Theory 1B states that perhaps the fridge is on the fritz and actually froze the apple.  People eat wedding cake after a year, afterall.   The second theory is that the apple has so much artificial wax to create its sheen that it acts like a preservative or more so, like embalming. That doesn’t sound appetizing, I know.

So,  step right up and see if this apple brings magic into your life.  I’ll certainly be reporting back with the latest developments.