That’s right, it’s time for another harrowing blog entry where I put my taste buds, comfort, and often general safety into danger, all so that none of you will have to suffer a similar experience. Except when the items reviewed are good, I mean, but really how often does that even happen? Anyway, since it is still the glorious month of October (Hail the Great Pumpkin) and I’m keeping things Halloween themed, what better target for a Drew Tries Stuff than some of the weird, unnatural, or just plain absurd Halloween Candy you pass by every year. No longer will these flashes in the pan be forgotten, resigned only to the carts of shoppers whose passion (or eyesight) has faded. Today, they get a moment in the spotlight to shine brightly or melt from the heat. Hint: it’s mostly the second one.
No, this isn’t a boy band made of ghosts… but someone remind me to pitch that to Disney when I’m done with this blog. Rather, it’s a weird callback to those Live Strong bracelets that were all the rage a few years ago, until they had a color for every cause, becoming ubiquitous and then ridiculous in a short span of time. It is Halloween though, so I guess it’s unfair to give a company shit for going grave-digging. Not content to merely revitalize these fashion accessories, this version of the bands is, wait for it, edible! Yeah, I guess that was kind of a given from the start, huh?
There are four flavors of Boo Band, but I only made it through 3 because nobody wants orange and also watermelon stopped me dead in my tracks. Sorry, getting ahead of myself. Before we look at the Boo Bands as food, we must first see how they fair as a bracelet. Ready…………. the answer is Badly! I’m not big on actually donning wearable food to start with, I ate my Ring Pops and Candy Necklaces away from my flesh, but at least those could be functionally worn if one so desired. Boo Bands come out of the package sticky, and stinky, with a texture like someone already licked every inch of it. Greasy was the word that sprang to mind. So, not a great bracelet, but maybe they redeem themselves with a delicious… fuck it, let’s not draw this out, they were horrid. The best of them, sour apple, had virtually no taste, while watermelon was like biting down on a hunk of spoiled chemicals. From start to finish, it was an abysmal experience.
Rating: 1 out of 5 necromancers ruining another damn first date by accidentally re-animating the steak, again.
Twizzlers Carmel Apple Filled Twists
No weird fashion options here, just a good ole-fashioned Twizzler. Only, what’s this, someone seems to have stuffed it full of a knock-off version of caramel? Well, surely the fine people at Twizzler know what they’re doing, right? …right?
There’s only one place I can start with this one, and it’s the smell. As soon as I cracked open the bag, I felt like my senses had been assaulted by plastic, sadness, and someone getting fired over the creation of this product. I had friends with me trying all of these, and after I passed the bag around for a sniff test the overall reaction was to ask if we had backup options. It’s fucking pungent, y’all. Still, I am a dedicated professional, in as much as doing this job can be called professional, so I marched on, opening one of the individual packs and taking a bite.
Looking back, I wonder if perhaps the smell was some sort of brilliant, avant-garde type of marketing. These Twizzlers were not good; let me be very clear about that. However, after being assaulted by the stink of the bag, I found myself relieved by the taste that entered my mouth. Subpar as they were, compared to the bag-stench they were positively tolerable. “Not as bad as I expected” isn’t really the review any creator dreams of, but it’s hard to deny there is a somewhat positive spin on it. Maybe the stink was done to purposely lower expectations, maybe it’s a happy coincidence, all I know is that while I didn’t continue with any more bites, I wasn’t furious about the one I took.
Rating: 2 out of 5 evil skeletons freezing and then moving among the Halloween decorations on people’s lawns just to fuck with passersby.
Bloody Fang Bites
Another shot at wearable candy, at least this one has the sense to keep things in the mouth, where stickiness is an expected part of the equation. Plus, they kept their toy and candy separate. Bloody Fang Bites are a set of cheap plastic fangs paired with a pack of red “blood” that you pour into the fangs, then set them in your mouth and slowly drain the blood, creating a vampiric looking effect while also delivering that necessary hit of sugar. Dumb? Yes. Guaranteed to stain the shit out of an angry parent’s carpet? Oh without question, but they aren’t your kids or carpet, so we’ll leave that for someone else’s review.
In terms of how well the fangs work as a blood delivery system, there’s a lot to be desired. It’s probably worth noting that these fangs are definitely sized for kids though, they’re smaller than the normal ones I see at Halloween stores every year, so perhaps my gaping adult maw just couldn’t properly deal with fangs intended for smaller mouths. Or, more likely, it’s just a shitty idea, but I do feel compelled to at least give the company doubt, if not the benefit of it. As for the blood itself… actually, it wasn’t that bad. Another supposed watermelon flavor, it mainly tasted just of sweetness, which isn’t a high bar but finally washed out the taste from the Boo Bands, so I was feeling forgiving. Calling it good would be a stretch, however the taste is neutral enough to fade into the background of better candy, and the packs of fangs/blood don’t actually come with instructions to pour the blood into the fangs; those directions are only on the main pack. Kids are probably going to think it’s weird that they got fake fangs and candy blood, but I doubt they’ll be so enraged as to find it worthy of revenge.
Rating: 4 out of 5 witches spiking the neighborhood punch with magical hallucinogen potions, because sometimes they miss the good ole Halloween festivals of yore.