"It's the same exact thing, only it comes in a bag" my father used to tell me about generic versions of popular breakfast cereals. Was he a rotten liar? This blind taste test proves him right. Or possibly wrong.
Are you tired of suffering through all of that vigorous crunching and collateral mouth damage just to get to the delicious post-cereal milk at the end of the bowl? There is a better way, my friends — cereal tea.
The Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt, surrounded by servants and draped in gold and jewels, were considered gods among their people, but godhood came with a price. They served their people in life. They served them in death. They served them breakfast for all eternity.
A man cursed with the form of a wolf, or a feral creature desperately attempting to shake of its vestigial ties to humanity? Whatever the balance of beast and boy in cherry-flavored Frute Brute be, both sides felt the sting of betrayal. Both have returned for their revenge.
The sudden chill as you turn into the cereal aisle; the soft, lilting voice at the periphery of hearing, musing on breakfasts long ago; the ephemeral taste of berry-like flavor on the tip of your tongue — all these are Boo Berry, the Monster Cereal forever trapped between this world and the next.
For the first time in America's troubled history, the five points on the pentagram of morning food evil glow as one upon store shelves, signaling the coming of the last complete breakfast. Five cereals in five days, and a Count Chocula shall lead them.
This is a box of "Marios," a novelty product pitched by Mario Williams, a new member of the Buffalo Bills' defensive line, and currently on sale in Buffalo-area grocery stores such as Top's. Proceeds from the sale of this cereal benefit patients and families of children being treated at an area cancer institute. The…
It might not be the video game-branded cereal Lisa Foiles craves, but the Atari-classic branded General Mills cereal boxes popping up at Target stores across the country might have you bringing the box back to the breakfast table again.
I know what you're thinking, and stop it. "Hey, Lisa, what makes you think you are an authority on such a hard-hitting journalistic subject like breakfast cereal? Redheads are unreliable sources 65% of the time, plus they make up statistics."
Just when I was afraid breakfast would be lost to me forever, UPS Man arrives to save the day with an extra-large box of Utopios. And guess what? There's a prize inside.
We've dealt with factory sealed Nintendo rarities two decades old this past week, but at least their contents wouldn't throw you into gastric distress. A 22-year-old unopened "Nintendo Cereal System" box just sold for $207.50, or $103.75 per cereal.