Cracker Jacked

WTF is up with prizes from Cracker Jacks lately? I remember in my youth the prizes would sometimes suck, like you’d get a sticker or a temporary tattoo or something like that, but nowhere near the suckage of recent times. Last week I bought a huge bag of the sticky, not-enough-peanuts-having treat while at a Caps game. I thought the prize couldn’t be worse than my last one from several years ago, a “notepad” — that is, a tiny square of paper with four lines on it and a picture of an Octopus — but I was wrong. Instead, I got a piece of paper that informed me historical facts about Susan B. Anthony with an unflattering drawing of same. Who the hell would want this? CJ, if you have decided your mission is to help mankind by educating kids, how about educating them that this bag of caramel corn has 8000 calories inside it and eating it will make one enormous. And the kernels will somehow get stuck to all of your clothes and people will laugh at you and say, “hey look, it’s the guy with the popcorn stuck to his pants” and you will cry.

Moose munch is way better.