The Perfect Combination

Normally, I don't get righteously indignant or incensed about ridiculous inconsistencies, incongruities, or blatant idiocies in product advertising. That's more my wife's department. But, once in a while, I like to take up the torch and raise the flag to answer her rallying cry against corporate America and its advertising denizens.

'Cause it gets me the sex-o. N'yah mean?

Because the stars align, babies giggle, and unicorns undulate in that suggestive, equine way when chocolate and peanut butter are combined, we are all aware that the Resse's Peanut Butter Cup is pretty much the perfect sweet snack food, as much as we all know that bacon-wrapped pork medallions are the perfect savory snack food. If we're honest with ourselves.

If you're one of those unlucky people who is afflicted with a peanut butter allergy, well, I don't know what to tell you. When it's snack-time, what the hell do you reach for? Pretzel rods? Mission figs? A 9mm with hollow-point, copper-jacketed rounds? I mean, Jesus. I'm just so, so, so sorry.

Anyway, for those of us who have not been smote by the L. G. A. (Lord God Above), consuming a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup is perhaps the zenith of readily-available, mass-produced snack-food schlock. This has been proven by unattractive, impotent scientists, as well as Wikipedia, so I'm not just talking out of my doo-chute like usual. Generally sold in a Tupac, they're 1.5 ounces (42 grams for you effing freaks) of soft, chocolatey, om-non-nomitty goodness. If you haven't tried one, you're probably a virgin, too. For best results, try to get both of those firsts under your belt-- at the same. time.

Whoa!

Now, we've been steadily steamrolling towards the reason for this post's creation, and I appreciate your calm patience with the sophomoric attempts at humor and the meandering, where-the-fuck's-he-going-with-this-duckboat writing style. You're a peach pit, truly. My wife had some vitriol to spew at me upon my arrival home from a Sunday spent at the insane asylum, and such vit had to do with the new commercials hawking the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

It goes rather something like this. There's jangly pop guitar music that makes your eardrums bleed like a newly imprisoned minor. Over mouthwatering CGI Peanut Butter cups spinning and having mysterious, McGruff the Crime Dog bites being taken out of them, big graphic letters blare out the following terse message:

"Reese's: When You Have The Perfect Combination of Peanut Butter & Chocolate... YOU DON'T MESS WITH IT! (You Eat It.)"

Oh, 'k, thanks for the info, D-bags. Now, let's count all the ways YOU'VE FUCKING MESSED WITH THE GODDAMNED REESE'S TITTYLICKING PEANUT BUTTER COCKCUP!

*Ahem*... Here we go. Special kissies to Wikipedia-- right on its vag:

Miniatures - bite-size versions available year round in bags. These chocolates come in a black paper cup wrapped in gold or colored foil.

Dark Chocolate - peanut butter filling in a dark chocolate cup

White Chocolate – peanut butter filling in a white chocolate cup

Big Cups – an oversized version of the traditional cup (also available in white chocolate, with peanuts, mixed nuts, and with a combination of nuts and caramel)

Peanut Butter Lovers – a layered cup with top peanut butter layer, thin chocolate layer and peanut butter filling

Chocolate Lovers – a thicker chocolate cup with a thinner layer of peanut butter

Inside Out – chocolate filling in a peanut butter cup (a reversal of the traditional version)

Caramel – the traditional cup with an added layer of caramel filling

Marshmallow – the traditional cup with an added layer of marshmallow filling

Peanut Butter & Banana Creme – a layered cup with a top chocolate layer, bottom banana creme layer, and peanut butter filling; released in summer 2007 in tribute to Elvis Presley. It was available in standard, Big Cups and Miniatures sizes*

(*A tribute to Elvis Presley? Are you fucking with me?)

Crunchy Cookie Cup – a layered cup with crushed chocolate cookies and peanut butter filling (discontinued in 1999)

Honey Roasted - a traditional cup substituting honey roasted peanut butter

Hazelnut Cream - hazelnut cream instead of the standard peanut butter filling

Sugar Free - a mini, sugar-free version for people with diabetes or other diet restrictions

Double Crunch - a traditional cup with peanut filling much similar to a Snicker's Bar, released in the fourth-quarter of 2010

And those are just the variations on the actual cup. Want more Reese's "messes"? Oh, OKAY!

Reese's Bar - a chocolate bar with squares of chocolate with a peanut butter filling

Reese's Brownies

Reese's Cookies

Reese's Cremes

Reese's Crispy Crunchy Bar, a chocolate bar with 5th Avenue-esque crisp, peanuts and Reese's peanut butter

Reese's Fast Break

Reese's NutRageous

Reese's Peanut Butter Bars (with either chocolate or fudge coating)

Reese's Peanut Butter Bites

Reese's Pieces

Reese's Pieces with Nuts

Reese's No Bake Bars las vegas the place to be* (*Um, what?)

Reese's Select Cluster

Reese's Snack Barz

ReeseSticks

Reese's Swoops* (*Um, what?)

Reese's Whipps

Sweet 'n' Salty Bar

100 Calorie Peanut Butter Wafer Bars

Oh Henry! bar with Reese's Peanut Butter (sold in Canada only)

Look, I'm fine with innovation. I love innovators. If it wasn't for innovation and its innovators, we wouldn't have had the German-engineered, rear-engined adorabug that I love so much. We wouldn't have, um, folding step-ladders or streaming internet porn or halogen bulbs or "Are You Being Served?" or boxer-briefs. But making the already-perfect snack into a goddamned Christmas tree or calling it a "Swoop" isn't innovation, it's regurgitation-- and it's the height of hypocisy for a company that has engaged in so much tinkering and massaging and, yeah, regurgitating, to claim that it's not "messing" with perfection. Don't wrap my dick in 40-grit sandpaper and choke the life out of it and call it a handjob.

You know what, Hershey's? Don't mess with US!

Or my, um... my... dick.