...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Monday, September 24, 2007

who's your snacky? come on. say it. tell me...

"O R U our whore?" they whisper from the kitchen cabinet where I thought I'd securely locked them away in the dark recesses of the pantry.

Nabisco! Damn you! What have you done to me? These Oreo Cakesters - little chocolaty cakes filled with oozing cream that I swear must be laced with crack or the love of a million elfin bakers who want me to have the ass of a sedentary soul - demand a level of love and commitment from me that, quite frankly, scares me. One taste. That's all it took. One simple, nonchalant taste and I was coming back for more as soon as it seemed reasonable. Like within 12 minutes. I mean, that's reasonable, right?

Since bringing this crazy lover into my home a week ago, I've found myself pacing my kitchen, my heart brimming with lust that has transpired into something deeper. Entranced in a love affair I know is going to end up making me feel really bad about myself and require an extra 30 minutes of kick boxing to break free of. Hanging my head in passion riddled defeat, I open and close the pantry about 20 times every night. Look at the box with longing. Tell myself to walk away, give them to my sons. Anything to break myself of this burgeoning addiction. But, because the sugar is stronger than me sometimes, because the sweet can be so sweet, before I realize it, I have Oreo Cakesters (god, what you do to me, original flavor...) out again. My fingers trace the shiny blue and red package and I feel the outline of their soft and springy roundness through the foil of their individually wrapped love. Their creamy centers are in there, wanting me as much as I want them.

I told them I loved them fast. Within two bites. If you've tasted them then can you blame me? Note that angelic light and cloud of deliciousness that surrounds the Cakesters on the box and tell me you'd not not spill your love to them the moment they asked if you cared for them like they did you. As the crumbs dropped from the corner of my mouth and landed atop my left breast, I knew I was taking the Whoreville Express to Snack Land. Oh, my love was a muffled confession, sure, what with my mouth full of the goodness and all, but when I looked down at the cake and saw that my delicate bite had transformed the once round snack into the sweet crescent shape of a smile, I should've realized that smile was its way of sinking deeper into me, knowing I'd be back.

And that it would have the potential for evil, as it seems all good things eventually do.
"O R U our whore?" they repeat, and this time it seems they are more intense in their inquiry.

"O R I ever, dammit" I cry. Caving. I've a history of being a caver. Tossing aside the bag of baby carrots I pull out of the fridge every time we play this silly game of "cake versus girl," I admit it. Again. Like I always do. This time I nearly tripped over myself to get to the pantry cabinet and free my sugary lover from its dark confines.

That's when I hear another voice.

"O R U sure about that? What about us? Don't you want us? Taste us. Now! DO IT NOW!"

GRRRR!

Oreo Chocolate Creme Cakesters! With creamy chocolate deliciousness oozing between its deep, dark cakey orbs. Sigh...

"O U know what they say, right?" they ask, a collective voice much more forceful than the whispered commands of my original fat-laden lover. I'll admit it. The control behind them is a turn on.

"Tell me..." I command back.

"Once you go Oreo Chocolate Creme Cakesters, you don't go back..." the twelve of them, conveniently twin wrapped into six tidy packages, say in husky unison. "So I hear..." I growl, and dive in, willing to let my once dominant vanilla lover watch as I put the chocolate Cakester's theory to the test. God. Sold. Sold hard. What's that? I have a little smidgen of the chocolate filling at the corner of my smirk? Impossible. I took that cake hard. There's no way there's a crumb left anywhere.

Yeah. I'm Nabisco's little snack cake whore. So what. Sometimes things that are bad for you are good for a time. I'm willing to accept that. I'm even willing to have a threesome with both flavors and myself. OK, fine, I must add that in the spirit of full confession I have indeed had a threesome with them. When a glass of icy cold skim milk comes sniffing around at the same time, I may have reached for it without once looking up from what I was doing in devouring the two delicious flavors and sucked it down, too. If that makes me a snack whore, so be it.

And the answer is yes. Yes, I'm prepared for the bad. The sugar headaches. The extra time with the Turbo Jam DVD. The guilt. God. The guilt. The lingering, festering guilt...

But when they're gone, they're gone. No more. Oh, I hear them asking "O R U doubtful?" The answer is no. No, I am not doubtful. Whether they like it or not, I control them.

O R I just kidding myself...

Labels:

21 Comments:

Blogger Kelly said...

Oh my god. I must never eat one. Breathe near one. Look directly at one. Lest I be hooked for life.

Sunday, September 23, 2007 10:06:00 PM  
Blogger Confused Husband said...

Theres a guy I work with that told me he is addicted to them as well. He told me that he wouldn't give me one because he didn't want to be responsible for the consequences. I thought he was just being stingy. Maybe not.

Here's to hoping you can kick the habbit. Maybe start a 12 step program?
CH

Monday, September 24, 2007 1:43:00 AM  
Blogger Nanette said...

Which really makes me wonder why I didn't develop such an addiction. Perhaps I need to try the chocolate version. I would be wise to leave them alone--but, sigh, I am not known so much for being wise when it comes to food.

icnlysovbntld

Monday, September 24, 2007 3:29:00 AM  
Blogger Phyllis Renée said...

Thank you so much for confessing this to the rest of us. I know it must have been difficult to openly discuss your weakness, but in your sharing we can all gain some wisdom from your experience. The first step is acknowleging that there is a problem. It could happen to any of us :o)

Monday, September 24, 2007 5:34:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

I thought the tiny elfin bakers worked for Keebler. . .

And hey - they don't make a mint version of these, do they? (Just askin'). . .

Monday, September 24, 2007 9:00:00 AM  
Blogger FTN said...

I'm ashamed to admit that the first thing I thought when I read this was... "'whose'? Did she write 'whose' in the title? That makes no sense!"

Please tell me that I just don't understand the title. Because if you wrote "whose" rather than "who's," then I'm afraid, as your editor, I may be fired. And I just can't handle living on the streets again.

I'd also like to point out that adding "-ster" to any word makes it inherently cooler. Hey, Fadkogster! Word up! It's the FTNster! How's it hangin'?

I've never had a cakester, but I doubt they'd do anything for me. Just not my style. But now I'm feeling just a tad bit impotent, being the vanilla cakester that I am.

Monday, September 24, 2007 9:43:00 AM  
Blogger Stacie said...

I've yet to try one. Oh they call out to me in the grocery as I hurriedly pass with my cart. They make rude comments when I don't respond at first. They get louder, bolder, ruder. One day they attacked, jumping right into my cart. I don't take kindly to being bullied by anyone and that was crossing the line. I might have liked them had they not been so pushy, might have befriended them, taken them home with me, but once they crossed that line it was all over for them. I tossed them carelessly back on the shelf not carring if I damaged them in the process and now when I rush past them in the store trying to avoid confrontation with them, if they get loud with me, I kind of flip them the bird as I pass them by.
I don't take kindly to being bullied at all. I think they belong to a gang too..they were wearing colors.
Stacie

Monday, September 24, 2007 10:28:00 AM  
Blogger Phyllis Renée said...

Oh, but I am concerned about these voices you're hearing.. Scary stuff when snack cakes start talking to you.

Monday, September 24, 2007 11:58:00 AM  
Anonymous Terry said...

The chocolate version is the debil is disguise I tell you! I too was lured in and I tell you I ate 10 of the 12 myself. I won't even go down that damn isle now. I can't. I won't. I meant that. Really. I do. Not kidding. NOOOOOO.
Signed, Ter-ster (I always wanted to be in the cool kids club dammit!)

Monday, September 24, 2007 12:53:00 PM  
Blogger Tajalude said...

Thank God I found this post in time... I have been afraid of the Oreo Cakester since first I saw the commercial some time ago. I see my fear is justified.

You've saved one weak soul; for that, I hope it has been worth it.

Monday, September 24, 2007 6:27:00 PM  
Blogger kimmyk said...

OMG. I've seen 'em but have never known anyone to try 'em now gadamnit..I'm gonna have to break down and buy the sonsabitches. Hope you're happy.

It was really good huh? Is it like eating a cupcake of sorts? Creamy goodness? Gah. My tastebuds are all up in a freakin' tizzy now.

Monday, September 24, 2007 9:48:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

kelly - If you even so much as hear the start of a commercial on television for these things, throw a brick at the screen. Push the TV out the window. Seriously. Do. Not. Start. You'll thank me later!

CH - Oh, I'd probably be inclined to share. But I'd also probably ask for some cash in exchange for a twin-pack. You know. Jack up my profit in order to be able to save some AND go buy new. If you're interested, look for me. I'll be the shaky, depleted one in the alley. Dark circles under my eyes. Muttering to myself.

Basically what I do all the time, just with the addition of a back alley.

Nan - Because you are strong and good and pure. That is why. You are like the magic to my dark and twisted soul. Bring me back to the light...ha!

Seriously. No more addictions. Why, some would say the benefits of going cold turkey, whether you yourself opt for that or not, are beneficial...

Phyllis - I only pray that it doesn't happen to any of you. I'm not the best, most regular prayer participant, mind you, but if my hand to God breakdown is of any benefit to the rest of you, then my soul is clean and my sins forgiven.

Desmond - Oh, I'm telling you, those freakin' Keebler elves would probably be all up in Nabisco's biddness if they had a taste of these magnificant tiny bites of love. But I would beat them down in my quest for them!

Alas, if they did have a mint version, I could probably stay away from those. I am not a mint girl. Unless it's the toothpaste I use after eating one of these to wash the taste out and compel me not to eat anymore!

FTNster - You weren't around when I planned to put this internet column to bed in order to edit me. I mean, I was knocking and calling and texting and messaging and yelling and what have you. You were apparently ignoring me. WTH? Men shouldn't be ignoring me! Especially when I'm all tired and the confusing "who's" and "whose" comes into play!

Come have a Cakester with me. You'll be lulled outta that vanilla world in no time. Seriously.

Stacie - You've struck on the first key point. JUST KEEP MOVING ALONG. If they call you out, in the aisle, on TV, in print...JUST KEEP MOVING. Oh, they're gonna keep showing up. Asking how you are. Where've you been. Do you want them? Trust me on this. IGNORE THEM! If you don't, believe me, the next thing you know, you're laying in a heap on the couch or the floor or against the kitchen counter (just sayin'...) and you're not gonna remember what just happeend. Well, bits and pieces of the dread will flash in your memory. And you'll maybe cry or curse whatever God you may or may not choose to believe in. And then you're gonna say "NO MORE. NEVER AGAIN!"

But believe me. You will give in the next time. And probably the next. You're not gonna mind that they bully you a little bit, even though you tell yourself your strong. I mean, come on! Look what that little cake called me and I just took it!

I'm going cold turkey on their asses, though. Starting now. I've had none for three days. AND! AND! When I open the cabinet, I DO flip them off. Double barreled. Call them a nasty name, too. It makes me feel better!

Phyllis - Ha! Believe me. Snack food talking to me is the least of the inanimate objects that like to carry on regular conversations with me. I've discussed the day with my hair. Argued logic with my iPod. Discussed men with the steering wheel of my mini. Yeah. I have a lot of friends...

Terster - Oh, honey! I know! EVIL! I told myself not to look at the nutritional content of them until I'd enjoyed one package. Then I did. OMG. Um, nothing that small (no double entendre intended!) should be quite that good and yet so worthless for you! This is why I have to flip them off when I open the cabinent now!

Taja - My heart is light and my soul is at peace knowing I have had a hand in keeping you from the evil. This makes me very happy. Stay strong, my friend. Stay strong.

kimmyk - I'd be happier knowing you had been dissuaded from buying these. I mean, seriously, do you, too, want snack food calling you a whore? Yeah, they'll be all nice at first. "Baby" this and "sugar" that. But believe me. They turn dark fast.

However, if it is indeed a risk you're willing to take, let me just tell you that the original flavor is like a little Suzy Q and the chocolate creme kind can only be described as a cloud of sin floating on two cakey mounds of bliss.

If you find this becomes a problem, or if these cakesters turn on you, too, you know where to find me!

Monday, September 24, 2007 10:55:00 PM  
Blogger Phyllis Renée said...

You know, I'm thinkin' you could have quite a nice little threesome if Little Debbie stopped by.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 8:44:00 AM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Phyllis - Ha! Well, truth be told, I don't think I'd do well in the MFF playland. Guys seem to have this thing for the chicks to be all up on each other while they sit back and live in fantasyland. So classic.

While I dig me some Little Debbie, I think she and I would be better suited to dish on the cakester and his silly fantasy world!

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 8:56:00 AM  
Blogger Desmond Jones said...

So, by all means, let's hear it for the FTNster! FTN-man; FTN-o-rama; The FoToN Torpedo; FuToN Luvv Machine; FaTaNic verse-ster; FaTNasy Lover; FaTal attractioN. . . Yeah, let's hear it for the Big Fella. . .

(apologies to Saturday Night Live. . .)

(and to you, DKG, beloved hostess of this comment page. . .)

(or, can I say 'hostess' in comment to a Nabisco-themed post? Jeez, I'm just bustin' out all the snack-cake companies, aren't I?)

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 9:43:00 AM  
Blogger Chag said...

Oh God. Those things are TOO good. They should make them illegal.

We bought a box a few weeks back. I think it was gone in two days. I hurry past them in the grocery store now, ignoring their siren song.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 11:48:00 AM  
Blogger Recovering Soul said...

I see the commercials but haven't tried them. Sweets are my weakness. I can't so no. Once I pop, I can't stop. All that good stuff. But I MUST stop and lose a few pounds...

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 3:17:00 PM  
Blogger Melissa said...

No no no no no. No. Stop thinking what you're thinking, Melissa. But they sound so good! Aha, but that's the trap! Maybe just a little taste? I mean, where's the harm in that?

... to be continued (probably shaking in an adjacent alley)

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 8:03:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Desmond - A FuToN love machine? Seriously, if such a thing existed, I'd be saving pop bottle redemption money and pennies I pick up off the street to buy one!

And well played on the hostess, mister. Well played indeed...

Chag - They are truly little bits of evil baked into cakey goodness. I think these things are a sign of darker forces working against us.

Alas, I have some left. You want I should hook you up?

RS - If you just run a few laps around the grocery aisle these are located in, you'll be fighting weight in no time!

Melissa - Do I have to slap you to snap you outta this? If I do, know I do because I care. Don't be like me. Weak and willing to give. DON'T. Respect yourself. Don't become fodder for an old time ABC Afterschool Special, my friend.

But, if you cave, it's ok. I understand. When you're ready for help, I'll glady be your sponsor.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007 11:01:00 PM  
Blogger Chrissy said...

My sister hates me because of those things now, and it's all your fault! :) I was calmly strolling through Target yesterday when what do I see? A whole endcap full of Oreo cakesters!! I swear, they just jumped in the cart on their own. Really it was the thought of your story that made me not even slow down as I approached. I didn't look at them at all. Full speed ahead and my arm reached out, grabbed a box and threw them in the cart without missing a beat. I went over to my sister's house later in the evening and tossed her a pack. She decided to wait until after we got home from the bar to try it. She called me on my way home with a mouth full screaming that she hated me for leaving those things with her! The box is almost gone now!

Sunday, September 30, 2007 11:23:00 PM  
Blogger for a different kind of girl said...

Chrissy - Oh, trust me! I am sorry that this evil has entered your house. Shockingly, I've been able to refrain. It's not been easy. They are evil, evil, evil hunks of sugar and goo!

I hope your sister and you are able to repair your bond!

Tuesday, October 09, 2007 11:26:00 AM  

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