My life is so busy. I am such a busy, important person. What does someone
with such a jam-packed, watch-checking life need? A new candy! A new
candy because I am perpetually bored with life, filled to the brim with
existential ennui as my special, paper-free Generation Next smartphone-delivered horoscope
would have me believe. Right now, or at least, until the next popular
Buzzfeed article, that candy is Snap Infusions, a naturally designed
supercandy that appeals to my busy and important life because it is also
moving too quickly to do silly things like type out the word “caramel,”
choosing instead to label it “MEL.” We’ll come back to that. The package
is covered in more holographic noise than your favorite sweat-stained
Pokemon card, and even features jizz-like blobs on the surface. It’s
also filled to the brim with keywords like “energize,” “protect,” and
“balance,” making it the confectionary equivalent of NeuroPassion.
MEL is small and turd-like in appearance, and tastes like poorly made Milk Duds. The chocolate coating
is scuffed and has a crumbly, cheap flavor to it. The caramel would be
inoffensive if each penny-sized piece wasn’t packed with more additives than a
Flintstones vitamin. I can almost smell the freshly ground B12. The pleasantly salty nugget quickly transforms into a
bitter-flavored chew, making each bite like eating a protein bar, torturous
piece by piece.
Snap
Infusions employs four catchy IM-style titles for its products that
range from asininely short to all-caps words bordering on Inception.
Reading the descriptions for GUM made me wonder if GUM was an automatic replacement
for another, non-GenNext sanctioned activity. “I use GUM
day and night. GUM gives me the energy I need. I like to take GUM the
old-fashioned way, with a rolled-up BFranxxx and AmEx card. Amirite?
Amirite? GUM, ladies and gentlemen!” It sounds like an old Robin
Williams sketch.
Speaking
of things you take up the nose, ounce for ounce, MEL may cost more than
cocaine in a glam-packed neighborhood. $2 for ten candies puts them at
20 cents apiece, a steep price for boiled sugar and the hopes and dreams
of innocent athletes. Then again, Snap Infusion’s website would argue that it’s a
small price to pay for not “ending up a dried-out shell of [your] former
self.” As someone who may or may not have modeled for the “before” side
of weight-loss scamvertisements, I take liberty in quoting from the late
Roget Ebert (Houston, I sense a trend) in saying that someday, I may be
thin, but Snap Infusions will forever be known for creating this awful
candy.
Labels: 1, candy, chocolate, diet, snack
