Oreos Self Defined

If you search the internet long enough, you’ll find a clip from an interview in which Stephen Colbert discussed really long songs with the band Rush.  Rush is known for having some long ass songs, so the subject matter wasn’t completely out of line on Colbert’s part.

 

One of the questions Colbert asked from his 10 foot tall chair was whether the band had ever played a song so long, that the band drew on it for additional inspiration.

 

You should understand right here that the opening of today’s dispatch is a key indicator of what lengths I will go to in order to provide quality verbal brilliance to an otherwise dull internet.  Whereas I can laugh at Colbert and watch various Rush concerts get played ad nauseam (bitchin’  italicized Latin phrase) on VH1 Classic, I’m not what you could consider a big fan of either of their work.  It’s not that I dislike them.  It’s just that neither of them are my first choice in comics and rockers.

 

So why on God’s green Earth am I talking about Rush and Stephen Colbert if I’m not their biggest fan?

 

I’ll tell you why.

 

Oreos.

 

Go back and read that again in order to absorb it in it’s full context.

 

Earlier today, I was made aware of a presence in the pantry.  I hadn’t felt that presence since….

 

Anyway, Wifey had procured a package of my favorite Nabisco product and placed them in the pantry at an angle and height which I couldn’t readily see.  Wifey had bought some Oreos, most likely with a nefarious motive which involves me fixing or doing something around the house.

 

There was something different about this particular package which didn’t initially bode well.  It wasn’t the traditional flavor of Oreos.  Instead it was a Cookies ‘n Creme flavor of Oreos.

 

At this point, let’s move into the MC Hammer section of today’s blog.  That’s right.  I’m going to break it down.

 

In July of 1987, I packed up Sunshine (my lab) in my 1980 Mustang and headed south from Wyoming in order to set up digs here in Texas.  I was moving to Houston.

 

Holy cow.  I’ve been in Texas for 25 years now.  In a sense, it’s hard to believe it’s been that long, but maybe not so much.

 

Anyway, upon my arrival to Houston, I was introduced to the Blue Bell brand of ice cream.  Namely, the first flavor I had was Cookies ‘n Creme, which was essentially crushed up Oreos in traditional vanilla.   Drenched, drowned, and doused in Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup, I can assure you that stuff was and is pretty darn good.  I’m given to believe a big bowl of the concoction is calorie free as well.

 

Go back and read that last paragraph.

 

Did you see the part where I mentioned that Cookies ‘n Creme ice cream is the culmination of Oreo cookies crushed up into vanilla?  For the record, TharpSter’s Cookies ‘n Creme is the name I would dub the ice cream upon adding the Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup.

 

At this point, we now have an Oreo cookie where the filling seems to be the same stuff added to vanilla ice cream to give it the Oreo flavor.

 

What’s wrong with this picture?

 

Taste-wise, absolutely nothing.

 

Under any other premise, it’s like using a certain word in the definition of that same word.  “What does ‘abbreviate’ mean?”

 

“Oh that’s when you make a word shorter by abbreviating it.”

 

“Interesting.  Well what’s in a ‘Cookies ‘n Creme’ Oreo?”

 

“That’s easy.  It’s stuffed with Oreo cookies.”

 

“Oh, okay.  Wanna go listen to some Rush songs?”

 

“Sure.  That Neil Peart is the bomb, especially when he’s hopped up on Oreos.”

As much as I would like to envision the presence of a Cookies ‘n Creme Oreo and whatever cockamamie marketing scheme exists behind it will serve as a sure fire key indicator that this planet is on the brink of certain destruction, I just can’t believe that our end of days will come by way of an Oreo.  That’s regardless of the fact that it’s been doctored up to taste like an Oreo within an Oreo.

 

Note to the good people at Nabisco.  I was good and respectful to your product.  Please send me some cookies.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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