Oh Cap’n, my Cap’n. I am sorely vexed.
I have recently heard what I had hoped was an urban legend – that the original recipe for my favorite weed-induced breakfast cereal has been changed.
I speak, of course, of Cap’n Crunch, Original flavor. Because I require Yellow Dye 5 and 6.
The broken glass and razor nuggets that used to slice up the roof of my mouth, rendering it useless for other foods, is now softer and less abrasive.
Say it isn’t so, Cap’n!
This is yet one more example of the codling of our children. We are at risk of raising a generation of people without leathery upper palettes. People who have smooth inner cheeks and lack the life skills to deal with violent food stuffs.
Why, when I was young we ate only after beating our food into submission in a violent knife fight. Then we washed the jagged shards down with a sugary liquid laden with every chemical dye known to man. And, if it came in a can and was called Hi-C but possessed no known vitamin of any letter, then all the better.
I remember stealing my parent’s Maraschino Cherries from the liquor cabinet. That’s right, I was shooting formaldehyde by the time I was 8.
So, keep your gentrified cereals, you generation of weaklings. I will continue to man-up and chew, unabated.
And to you I say, There Will Be Blood.