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How I Feel About… Marshmallows

It’s been a while since I offered a set of personal wild-eyed opinions about an ordinary, everyday object.

Oh, I’ve done it in the past. I’m not denying that. It’s just that it’s been a while. And I think it’s time. So without further ado, here’s…

How I Feel About… Marshmallows

Marshmallows are BAD because Peeps are, apparently, made primarily from marshmallows. Peeps don’t taste like marshmallows. Peeps taste like squishy rancid ass. But the marshmallows are in there, so they get blamed, too. It’s the ‘ass by association’ rule.

Marshmallows are GOOD because people often add marshmallows to hot chocolate. And without marshmallows, hot chocolate would be nothing but a dark bland burnt sludge.

Marshmallows are BAD because people often add marshmallows to sweet potatoes. And with marshmallows, sweet potatoes are nothing but a dark bland burnt sludge.

“Marshmallows are BAD because marshmallow spread is in a fluffernutter sandwich. And fluffernutter sandwiches killed Elvis.”

Marshmallows are GOOD because if you have a steady hand, you can roast a marshmallow to a delicious subtle brown, using only your favorite campfire and a handy, highly unsanitary forest twig.

Marshmallows are BAD because if don’t have a steady hand, like I don’t, then you’ll spend much of your campfire time choking down the dry chalky embers of unlucky innocent marshmallows. And you’ll catch a lot of twigs on fire.

Marshmallows are GOOD because if you have unsteady hands, you can at least pretend the marshmallows you’re catching on fire are the camp counselors who brought you out to the godforsaken woods with only a bag of stupid marshmallows in the first place. Haven’t these bastards ever heard of Domino’s?

Marshmallows are BAD because the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man nearly destroyed Manhattan a few years ago. I’m not the biggest fan of the Big Apple, I don’t think it deserves to be conquered by a giant wannabe s’more. Cleveland, maybe. New York, not so much.

Marshmallows are GOOD because at least the evil demigod who morphed into the Stay Puft Man managed to turn Rick Moranis into a big mute dog first. That’s gotta score the big tubby white guy some points.

Marshmallows are BAD because Moranis didn’t stay a dog. I guess marshmallow mojo isn’t quite as strong as we’d hoped. Maybe next time they’ll send a badass like Poppin’ Fresh, and the job will get done right.

Marshmallows are BAD because marshmallow spread is in a fluffernutter sandwich. And fluffernutter sandwiches killed Elvis. Well, that and the booze and the drugs and those sixty extra pounds. But my money’s on the fluffernutters. Damned rock and roll-hating marshmallows.

So marshmallows are BAD. Just ask Elvis, or New Yorkers, or any Cub Scout with the detox shakes. They’ll tell you. It’s not just me, people.