Cocoa Comets Cereal: What Dreams May Come?
Stater Bros. Cocoa Comets Cereal: A sweet part of a nutritious breakfast, or mind altering hallucinogenic dream enhancer?
Men should never be allowed to go grocery shopping unattended. If we are, we will always come home with either A: several cartons labeled Beers of the World containing many obscure and unusual tasting beers from many lands; or B: at least one food product designed exclusively for child-type nervous systems, usually with colorful and exciting sugar-based packaging.
Yesterday I went shopping. Since my refrigerator was already full of a mysterious, life-form producing beer from Porcupine, Alabama, I decided to go with two boxes of Cocoa Comets cereal. I had never even heard of it before, but it was on sale for two bucks a box and the illustration on the front suggested an astronaut-oriented-chocolate-fantasy. I had to have it!
When I was a kid, it was easy to tell which breakfast cereals could potentially kill you; they always had the word “sugar” in the title: Sugar Crisp; Sugar Smacks; Sugar Pops; Sugar Frosted Flakes, etc. But, over the years, things changed: now you have to read the list of ingredients to figure it out, and let’s face it, I’m not going to do that unless I eat the product, begin hallucinating and need to find the emergency hotline number.
So, last night, just before bed, I decided to try some. Before I knew it half the box was gone and I was flying around the house like Superman. This stuff tasted better than anything I’ve eaten in 20-years! I loved it! Of course, it didn’t take long before I was experiencing a sleep comparable to a morphine-induced coma.
I’m not sure what they put in this stuff, but the dream I had was weird on a scale that is off the charts! It involved an oversized, steam-powered mechanical vehicle rolling at a snails pace down the street sucking up screaming, panicked pedestrians that should have been able to outrun it, but for some reason, could not escape.
Each person, after being captured, was instantly converted into a fully-articulated garden gnome featuring the classic pointy-red-hat and white beard. One by one they were shot from a large cannon-like smokestack which sent most of them into the trees and onto rooftops; others simply crashed to the ground where, uninjured, they scurried off to create mischief.
What was most disturbing to me though was that every person that was once terrified and running for their life was now happy, even gleeful to have been converted into an evil little garden gnome. Unfortunately, I woke up before I found out what type of diabolical plans they were to unleash.
To those of my readers that happen to work in the psychiatric community, please consider that this was most likely just a children’s cereal-induced episode before you decide to send the guys with the white coats and butterfly nets.
