Oreo Cake

So, one of my favorite summer time desserts was when my mom would make Oreo Cake.

Now, the name is a bit of a misnomer, for while it does have plenty of Oreos, it is not a cake, other than in the same way a cheesecake is a cake.

Nevertheless, it tastes like being a kid, so I don’t care if it is a cake, pie, frozen confection, or ice cream. All I care about is putting a delicious spoonful in my mouth.

“But wait, Deigh,” you might be saying. “You can just get the same experience with Cookies N Cream ice cream!”

“Au contraire, mon frère,”* is what I respond.

It is nothing like cookies and cream ice cream… other than the fact that it has cookies and iced cream and…

Dang it, it does kind of sound like cookies and cream ice cream, but trust me, it is sooo much better.

To make this delicious delicacy of decadent delight, you need top quality ingredients.

Now, as soon as I say, “Oreos”, some of you are gonna say, “Why not Hydrox or Kroger Store brand sandwich cookies?”

My response to this is: Shut your face. In no universe does Hydrox taste like Oreos. Stop fooling yourself. I know they are cheaper, but so is London Broil, and only psychopaths prefer that over fillet.

Spring for the fillet.

You’ll be glad you did.

So, you only need three ingredients for this amazing concoction.

1.) A package of Oreos. Just a regular package of plain Oreos will do just fine.

2.) A half pint of vanilla ice cream. Generic is fine. Breyer’s is better. Blue Bell is amazing. If you really want to go nuts, make some of your own home made ice cream. That recipe can be found here: https://nostalgicdaydream.wordpress.com/2012/07/05/3-amazing-recipes-from-my-youth-4/

3.) A regular container of Cool Whip. Once again, brand matters. Just say, “no’, to generic Cool Whip and don’t even think about using the junk in the can…

Oh, and you also need as good mixer. I am using a KitchenAid because I am a snob. And now you are laughing at me because you can plainly see I bought Kroger brand vanilla ice cream.

Hey, what can I say? I’m a snob on a budget?

Besides, I did spring for the Deluxe…

So, now you take your Oreos and you put them in a gallon-sized freezer bag.

Then you take a rolling pin and beat the tar out of them. I mean, really pulverize them. Turn them into chunky powder.

Now, you do want a few big chunks so that you will have some crunch in your cream.

Then you put your crushed Oreos into your mixing bowl.

In the meantime, make sure your ice cream is good and soft…

And your Cool Whip is not frozen.

Then add both those bad boys to your mixer.

Then just mix the tar out of it. Make sure it is good and incorporated.

Once it is all mixed together, find yourself a nice glass casserole dish. Size doesn’t matter, but the thicker it is, the longer it takes to harden…

Then you just freeze your “cake” for about 3 hours, and wallah! You have a delicious summer dessert that will have your taste buds flippin’ and your hips a wigglin’ with a happy dance of gastronomic ecstacy!

Once you are finished, you can even lick the bowl because all the ingredients are edible!

Here’s the thing, you don’t even have to like Oreos in order to love this dessert. In fact, my kids hate Oreos, even the lovely Orange Halloween ones. I’m not even really sure these are my kids, but I digress…

But they love this stuff. I have to make a double batch because it disappears so fast, and let me tell you, brother or sister, this stuff ain’t cheap.

But, it is worth it. It is the taste of summer sun and hide and seek and lazy days and neighborhood pools and Saturday morning cartoons and I love it.

I hope you do, too…

* I’m pretty sure that mon frère is French for: My Righteous Dudes and Dudettes, but I could be mistaken.

Fall Begins…In July?

I know it’s early. Hey, I hear ya! It’s not even the 4th of July yet, man. No, that’s tomorrow. Typically I don’t get into a fall mood until after the 5th. But this year, the weather has been fall-like, so I’ve been like, screw it. If I want to be in a Halloween/fall mood in July, so be it. So I went to Hobby Lobby and this is what I found, and I could be more unashamedly happy…


Happy fall, ya’ll!

I Finally Update…

Hi. Hello. How are ya? Been a while, huh? I know, I know, I’m just like that chick or dude that you met at summer camp

that promised that they would write “the very minute I get home and then every day after that.” You waited by the mailbox every day, like Ralphie expecting his Little Orphan Annie Decoder Pin, and every day you were disappointed.

He/she hadn’t written. They didn’t write. They wouldn’t write.

Every day, that darned ol’ mailman would show up with a stack of gleaming white envelopes and multi-colored glossy magazines and your heart would jump. Maybe today….

Only the letter never came, did it? Instead, it was just a pile of bills and inquiries and none of it was for you.

You cursed. You spit. You punched your pillow. You drafted an incredibly witty, extremely mean-spirited response to your spurned love. Maybe you even mailed it. And what happened, bucko? It came back, didn’t it, with a big blue stamp that said: Return to Sender.  Address Unknown. No Such Number. No Such Zone.

You were heart broken. You sighed in the darkness of your room and every time a sad song like I Ain’t Missing You At All, Someone Like You, or Yoda’s Theme from The Empire Strikes Back

came on the radio, you would turn it up and let your heart bleed.

But you didn’t learn, did you?

No. The very next summer, you went to camp.

You had almost forgotten. Then you were in the mess hall and you ran into he/she again.

They looked surprised. You were shocked. You had rehearsed this scene so many times in your head, you knew exactly what you would say to them when you saw them again. But now the script was gone.

You stood there, babbling like a codfish and your mind was blank and your tongue was dry and thick.

And they were so nice, weren’t they? And they had great excuses. They had missed you. They had wanted to write, but they had moved from Dover, Delaware to Louisville, Kentucky over the fall and they had lost your address and you were the lost love of their life.

And you believed them, you sap.

You were inseparable during camp, smooching beneath the firefly trees and the summer breeze.

You swore you’d write. You were gonna keep in touch, this time. This time, it would work.

And you found yourself standing in front of the damnable mailbox, yet again, flipping through stacks of electric bills and credit card invoices and your mom’s Better Homes and Gardens.

Yeah. It’s kinda like that.

Only this time, I promise I’ll write….

What The What?

So we made two stops this weekend.

Now remember, today is only the 8th of July, so we’re talking about the 5th and 6th.

The first stop was Wal-Mart, where we had to get my son’s glasses adjusted. If you didn’t know, glasses are a horrible invention for an 8 year old. Sure, they help with things like vision and headaches and concentration at school, but really, with all of our amazing technology and the most recent breakthroughs in alloys and engineering, can’t we come up with something a bit more durable?

An eight year old should never be trusted with something that costs upwards of $100 and goes on their face. Have you seen an eight year old? They are walking catastrophes. Mine in particular, thinks that using his head means banging the door open with his cranium. The boy is a walking tornado, and by the time he gets to be a teenager we will own our own wing at the local hospital.

Anyway, we walked into the eyeglass showroom. I turned around to glance back into the store and noticed this:


Continue reading

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom Retrospective PART 2

When we last left Henry Jones Jr, he had just landed in India. The scary looking Shaman of the Indian village takes them in and introduces our heroes to the village.  Incidentally, the actor who played him was D.R. Nanayakkara.

D.R. did not speak any English. Steven Spielberg had to say his lines, and Nanayakkara had to mimic him.

The heroes enter into the village and are told about how their children have been stolen, along with a sacred rock that brings life to the village, and taken to Pankot Palace, where a new Maharaja is neck deep . . . in evil . . .

Indiana decides to go after the taken items, much to Willie’s chagrin.

It seems like just about everything in this movie is much to Willie’s chagrin.

I have to admit that although this movie sparks a nostalgic fire in my bosom that is timeless, and I certainly had a few thoughts about Kate Capshaw between this movie and Dreamscape, Willie’s character has not grown on me.

Originally, Sharon Stone was considered for the role. This was obviously well before her leg opening days in Basic Instinct. Willie might have been a very different character if Miss Stone had added her class to the role. . .

Oh, ummm. Nevermind . . .

Anyway, our heroes board elephants, and head off to Pankot.

Along the way Willie complains some more, Shorty bonds with an elephant, and Willie gets dumped into a mud puddle by hers.

Originally, there was a bath scene in the script, where Willie goes and bathes in the river and gets attacked by a snake. Kate Capshaw was not concerned about the nudity as much as she was about the snake.

Here is the excerpt from the script:


Thirty yards upstream, birds and monkeys chatter in a tree. In the shady river beneath, Willie surfaces cooly
and wipes hair from her eyes. She hums contentedly. Indiana wanders up the riverbank in his dripping trousers.
He notices Willie’s wet clothes spread over a tree limb hanging low over the water and then he sees Willie paddling around.

Hey, Willie -- I think you better get out now.
Stark naked? You wish... If you're trying to seduce me, Dr. Jones, this is a very primitive approach.
 Me seduce you? Honey, you're the one who took your clothes off. 
I just came over to remind you that you 
never know what else might be in the water.  
Somehow I feel safer in here.

As Indy turns and starts off, Willie reaches up to the tree branch above her head and grabs her underwear. At this moment we notice something awful: A BOA CONSTRICTOR is moving out along the branch, the enormous snake slithering over Willie’s clothes.

Willie watches Indiana walk away as she reaches up for her dress — her hands feel something strange — not the dress and not the tree limb — Willie looks up and sees that she’s pulling on a snake!

She SCREAMS as the boa constrictor falls off the tree on top of her! Indy hears the scream and hears Willie calling to him. He runs back toward the river. Stopping on the riverbank, he sees Willie backing away in the water — Indiana’s already starting to pull his boots off —

Indy! Help me!
Don't worry, I'm coming in! What is it?
A snake!

Suddenly Indiana freezes and a strange look crosses his face —

 A what...?
A snake!! 

He finally sees the boa constrictor thrashing in the water close to Willie. He leaves his boots on.

 Hurry, help me out of here! What're you waiting for?!
Uh, listen -- Willie -- I got a better idea.
First of all -- don't panic!

Willie suddenly screams as the boa constrictor wraps around her arm —

 It's got me ! Indy, help me!

Indy runs along the riverbank, trying to get closer to her, but not about to jump into the river (due to his aversion to snakes — see Episode One: “Raiders of the Lost Ark”).

Don't let it pull you deeper!
It's pulling me deeper!  
 Don't let it curl around you!
 It's curling around me! Stop talking and do something!

The snake is wrapping around her body and neck — her head is barely above water — On the riverbank, Indy reaches
down and grabs a piece of wood. But as he watches the repulsive reptile, he starts to sweat and his fear and loathing overpower him —

What's wrong?! Indy please help me!

Indy groans and bolsters his courage — he takes two steps into the water — but the complex is to strong and he can’t go any further. He drops the piece of wood…

 Listen, Willie. Do exactly what I tell you now.  
Can you move your arm?
Just one arm!
Okay, I want you to lift your hand -- and pet the snake.
PET IT??!! 
Yes, stroke it right along the maxillary and precaudal vertebrae.  
The what?!
Pet it on the head! Go on, pet it!

In the water, Willie is whimpering as she lifts her hand and starts petting the snake coiling around her pale body.

Oh -- my -- god -- it's going to crush me!  
Keep stroking it!

Willie keeps rubbing her hand along the snakes head and back and it slowly stops thrashing in the water.

 What's happening?
 It's starting to let go!
  That's good -- you're doing fine.

Grimacing as she stares at the ugly serpent’s head, Willie keeps stroking it.

It's letting go. I think it's -- I think it's going to sleep!

Indiana looks relieved. He sees the snake starting to drift away from Willie and she starts paddling back to shore,
collecting her floating clothes along the way. Holding her dripping dress against herself, she walks out of the water
toward Indy who smiles at her weakly.

See -- I got you out...

She slows and hauls off and punches him in the mouth. Indy holds his jaw as she walks away infuriates.

 Thanks for nothing! I hate snakes!  
(looking at the water)
I know the feeling...

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

So you can see what might have been. Alas, instead Willie freaks out at the campsite while Shorty cheats at cards, which is an amusing scene, but I kind of like the bathing scene. And not just for the hubba hubba,

Alright. That’s enough Indy for tonight. Tomorrow we reach Pankot.

Sleep slight and try not to dream about Sharon Stone spitting in a bit clay pot.

Michael Jackson’s Thriller

Things have been insane. So you’ll just have to wait for part two of my Temple of Doom Retrospective. Sorry.

In the meantime, though, enjoy a little taste of Thriller. This was the first album I ever bought, and it was Vinyl. In fact, I still have it. I’ll never forget going over to K-Mart and purchasing it with left-over potholder money.

Anyway, it was cool then, and it is flippin’ sweet, now.

A bit of trivia for you:

The video was released in 1983 at a cost of $500,000, five times what an average video cost at that time.

Jonathan Landis, of American Werewolf in London fame directed.

Special effects guru, Rick Baker, did the f/x.

This was a landmark video and had a brief theatrical run in order to qualify for an Academy Award.


Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom Retrospective PART 1

With it being summer and all, I thought I’d take a post or two or three (whatever it takes)  to discuss one of my favorite films of all time:

The summer of 1984 was a fantastic time. I was 9, going on 10, and the world was one of freedom, adventure, and pure unadulterated joy.

I had no idea how short that time span,  that freedom lasts. To a nine-year-old, time is molasses, a thick, never ending wave to be surfed at one’s leisure. There is no concept of such a thing as mortgages, credit card bills, doctor visits, oil changes, political debates, gay marriage, social injustice, or troubling moles that appear randomly on your back and grow black hair . . .

But I digress . . .

There are two movies that perfectly sum up that summer for me; a summer of bicycles and hide-and-go-seek and fireflies and thunderstorms.

One of them is:

which I will certainly get around to doing a feature about one of these days.

The other is Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Perhaps more than any other film in my past, this movie is a time machine that transports me back to a time when I was carefree, grass-stained, and freckle-faced. (OK, I still have freckles. Whacha gonna do?)

I know that there are some haters out there, some who absolutely loathe this movie almost with the same vehemence as Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. But I say, “Come on! Really? Crystal Skull? That’s the movie that put Marion on Valium, made Indiana a grumpy old curmudgeon who tried to explain the difference between quick sand and lightening sand while sinking in said mire, and turned that dude from Holes and Even Stevens into Tarzan, complete with the worst CGI monkeys I have seen outside of Jumaji (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmoNj59Ozug).”

Surely you jest. Temple of Doom is Indy at his most awesome, an arrogant, tough, awesome archeological pirate that takes no crap from anyone and gets the chicks.

That summer, my dad had purchased me a loom. Not just any loom, mind you, a loom for making potholders. That’s right, something along the lines of this:

My dad figured that it was time that he taught us kids the value of a buck.

That is exactly what we sold these little beauties for.

Night after night, we would sit in our living room and weave pot holders, while watching Silver Spoons and Different Strokes. Then we would take them door to door and sell them. After that, we would use the money for fun activities all summer long. We were poor, and the extra spending money really came in handy.

I hated selling those things, going door to door and convincing little-ol-ladies that they needed our pieces of junk that were really too small to be of much use of anything other than burning your fingers off when trying to remove a chicken pot pie from the oven.

Man, I love chicken pot pies.

Anyway, I was nine, armed with a bike, and twelve dollars. I did what any kid my age would have done: I went and saw Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom 12 times.

And what a movie! Right from the beginning, you know you are in for something special. I mean, this action adventure flick opens with a glorious musical number in the vein of old Hollywood fantastics like Footlight Parade and Singin’ in the Rain.

Broadway-style opening number....

Wait. What?

That’s right. The Lucas-man and the Spielberginator decided to go in a bit of a different direction on this one, tonally. That is for darn sure. The opening musical number is not only visually jarring, but it also makes no geographic sense. Willie and the chicks disappear inside the head of a huge albino dragon and suddenly, the small nightclub is roughly the size of the USS Nimitz:

Then they pull red scarves out of each others dresses. The whole thing is flamboyant and goofy, but hey, Anything Goes.

Anyway, after the girls finish singing, Indiana comes into the scene, dressed in a dapper white tuxedo.

Here he confronts Lao Che, the notorious Chinese gangster who is notorious for . . .  something sinister.

You can tell by the goofy grins that he and his sons have painted on their mugs (that’s faces in Chinese gangster).

The encounter soon turns violent as Lao poisons Indy, who in return decides to skewer Lao’s son and ruin a perfectly cooked Cornish game hen. Mmmmm, poultry flambe.

Lao frowns upon this, and the game is on. Indy is having trouble staying conscious, and Willie Scott – the famous American singer and girlfriend of Lao – finds the antidote and slips it into her dress.

This is a diamond, not the antidote.

Indy grabs her, they smash through the window, and land in a car driven by Indy’s side kick, Short Round. That’s right, a kid is driving the car! How cool that is . . . if you are a kid!

I thought I had seen Short Round before when he helped Mikey find One-Eyed-Willie’s treasure and save the Goondocks, but my mind was playing tricks on me because that movie came out a year after this one.

Shorty drives them to an airfield and there we see the first really cool cameo of the film, Mr. Dan Aykroyd:

You don’t really see Mr. Aykroyd very well, but it is a cool cameo.

Lao comes driving in, but it is too late.

Or is it?

You see, Indiana made the classic blunder of chartering a plane that is owned by the guy who is trying to kill you. I bet you can guess what that led to.

After a typical Indiana Jones style map screen,

The pilots parachute out, the plane crashes and our heroes parachute out using a rubber raft.

Then they end up bumping into THIS guy:

That is when this movie turns weird.

Yeah, I know, doesn’t sound like I like the movie much, right?

Freakin’ wrong.

I love this movie.

Hands down, this is the best acting that Harrison Ford has ever done, in his life. Even more convincing than the time he married Ally McBeal to try to prove to the world that he was straight, after getting his left ear pierced at age 54.

If you haven’t seen this movie, you really should leave your computer right this second and go watch it.


Turn it off and go.

Don’t let me ruin the rest for you.

Anyway, I’m a bit tired today, so I am going to break this review up.

Tomorrow we will learn more about what awaits our heroes in the mystical land of India. Will Short Round kick some butt? (Yes) Will Indy and Willie get in the mood? (you betcha) Will someone’s heart be ripped right out of his chest and mystically set on fire? (you’d better believe it)

And this is a family film?

Anyhow, this is going to be much more than just a synopsis. We’re gonna throw some trivia your way, some stats, maybe even a factoid or two. It’s gonna be great, much better than that time that your mom took you to Aunt Edna’s and she paid you a quarter to rub her corns.

By the time we are done, you are going to agree with me that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is one of the greatest masterpieces in modern history.

Or at least you won’t hate it.

See ya tomorrow, Indiana Jones.


SO I had to run to Target today. OK, not really. I just wanted to.

I wanted that Lime Icee, darnit, and I was gonna get one. I made up some lame excuse to my wife about picking up some medicine or some other such nonsense, and then hopped in my car and drove to . . . THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN (dun dun dun).

And there, at the snack bar, in all its pristine red, white, and blue glory was the ICEE MACHINE, with four flavors gleaming under the florescent glare of the fixtures above. Only one flavor caught my eye – Sublime.


Now, two things threw me off my game a little bit.

Number one, the Icee that I remember was just called LIME, nothing fancy or hoity-toity (yes, that is how you spell it. I Googled it). This was Sublime. Could there be a difference? Just what did the sub add to my lime?

But it did appear to be the right color, and I had gone to far to turn back, now.


Numero dose, the stupid flashing red defrost light was on.

I hate that light.

Many a possible refreshing, frosty Icee encounter has been thawed due to the annoyance of there being absolutely no schedule by which these lights appear.

Don’t you think it would make sense to say that, oh, I don’t know, maybe every afternoon at 4:23 on the dot, we will defrost this machine, so don’t come around here expecting an Icee at 4:24, bub, these things take 25 minutes or more to go through their cycle?

Instead, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason that these things decide to defrost. I have asked every Icee clerk in town to tell me when their machine would defrost. Do you know how many were able to tell me?

That’s right. None. Zero. Natta.


Of course, this time, my enrapture of finding my lost childhood summer love impaired my vision. I decided to go for it, anyway. . .

Which is why I ended up with a foamy soup in my cup, a sticky arm, and a mop in my hand, cleaning Target’s snack bar floor for free.

Twenty minutes later, the red light finally went off.



With a trembling hand I lifted the plastic red straw to my mouth.

I took a deep breath, and a light sip.

The sensation of cold and sweet lept onto my pallet like a really sweet, really cold thing that leaps. As the taste of lime filled me to the brim, Icouldn’t help but ask myself if this flavor had tasted so creamy and delicious eight years ago. The answer was: heck freakin’ yes!

Thank you, Target.

See you tomorrow.


I walked into my neighborhood Target tonight, in search of the elusive LIME ICEE.

“What?” you ask. “You went to Target just to look for a lime Icee?”

You bet your sweet bippy I did! In the summer of 2004, the Olympics were held in Greece, Yellow Livestrong bracelets hung on the wrists of hipsters around the country, Usher sang his Confessions, people were still trying to get over what Janet Jackson showed them at the Superbowl, Paris Hilton had made a video, Catwoman showed the world why Halle Berry’s Oscar was a total fluke, and the legendary fall flu vaccination shortage was still months off.

The Lime Icee ruled supreme. Imagine tasting the flavor of green.

I know, I know, in a previous post I spoke of how green smelled, but this is how green tastes.

Alas, like the fleeting scent of Yankee Candle Green Grass, the delicious Lime Icee disappeared.

But last Friday, I was on a side of town that I never go to. I was late for an appointment, but I had to stop into Target for just one thing. As always, I had to look over to the Icee machines, just to see what fantastic flavors they had to offer.

You see, one thing you should know about me is that Icees are my vice, my pleasure. When I become wealthy enough, I will have an Icee machine in my basement. I loves me an Icee.

Anyway, my jaw dropped, my pulse quickened, my mouth was instantly filled with water. There it was: THE LIME ICEE! Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to grab one, but I made a mental note to go to the nearest Target at the next possible moment.

That moment was today.

Image my amazed surprise when I walked up to the counter and discovered: FREE ICEE SAMPLES!!!


Are you freakin’ kidding me?!?! That’s awesome! Any of you ever seen anything like this, before? I mean, this is like Icee-lovers heaven mixed with Icee-lovers Nirvana.

There was one caveat: This particular Target only had Lemon Lime.


Really?  Are you kidding me? Crap. I could hear Daryl Hall singing, “So close, but so far away.”

But hey, free Icee samples, right? The good thing was that the lady behind the counter was overly generous with the sample. I think she really didn’t care about selling the Icees. She knew just how cool her job was. She got to give people free freakin’ Icees!


I had fully planned on purchasing an Icee, but after all the samples, I decided to save my money until I could get back to the other Target.

Here is what some of my samples looked like. The Lemon Lime is on the left.


Tomorrow I’m going to the other Target. If they have free samples of Lime, my head just might freakin’ explode.

Ah! The Smell of Summer . . .

It now being officially summer, I want my office to smell like summer. In the past, nothing said summer like the smell of Yankee Candle Green Grass candles.

Just look at that candle. Go on, I’ll wait. Do you see the amazing color of green, the subtle simplicity of the blue sky label? You just feel spring and summer when you look at this jar, don’t you? I know you do.

These little beauties came out somewhere around 2001, and it was love at first sniff. How do I describe the aroma?

It is the smell of the color, GREEN.

It smells just like your neighbor, Tom, mowed his yard on a Saturday morning – not too early so that you have had a nice rest and are not ticked by his thoughtless mower revving at 6:30 on a May morning, for cryin’ out loud! – and your windows are open letting in the smell of the freshly clipped fescue.

Yep, it smells like that, only someone dumped a pound-sized bag of sugar in to the clippings and mixed it with a stainless steel hand mixer that they bought at Walmart for $29.92 (http://www.walmart.com/ip/GE-6-Speed-Stainless-Steel-Hand-Mixer-with-Case/16913475).

So with an aroma like that, you can imagine my disappointment when Yankee decided to discontinue my favorite spring/summer scent. It’s like the little Yankee elves, who magically craft the candles, decided to snuff the hopes and dreams of a Midwest kid who only wants to sniff a bit of summer.

For the past few years, my spring and summer have been a bit less aromatic.

I have tried to find suitable alternatives. The closes I could find was this:


How does the saying go? Close, but no cigar. You can tell, just by the color, that this in not in the same ballpark. It does smell a bit like grass. It is decent, has a nice aromatic bouquet, but is definitely the poor man’s substitute.

One of the ways I gauge the quality of this candle is by my nose’s reaction. You see, the Yankee variety was so realistic, that my allergy to fresh grass would sometimes kick in and I would have to go blow the candle out before it melted the little puddle of wax on top, thus making all my candles burn unevenly and forcing me to buy a candle warmer to melt all the left over wax after the wick had tunneled into a wormhole of green.

This candle never did that for (to) me. Still, when I needed a nostalgic nasal boost, it would do in a pinch, but it was never the same.

So then I thought that perhaps I would find a suitable substitute. Not necessarily the same scent, but maybe something to take it’s place.

I found this:


Now this smells awesome. It is definitely no Green Grass, but I highly recommend it. It is not nearly as feminine as you might guess from the title. It has a bit of fruit, a bit of sass, and the closest thing I relate the smell to is some kind of beverage.

Mind you, I am not sure what beverage it smells like, but the smell that permeates my office is definitely beverage-like in nature.

In case you are wondering why everything in the above picture looks like it was taken in a trashed trailer, it is because of the one danger that is present with this candle. Yes, there is a warning associated with Home Scents Paradise Flower.

That warning is that it did not like my candle warmer. In fact, you might say that the reaction was EXPLOSIVE. That’s right, the candle exploded all over my desk and my Fabreze Scent Story.


So that did not exactly go as planned, and now I have hot wax to clean up. But never fear, connoisseurs of scent. As searching the web today, I found this:

Like a super hero to the rescue, Yankee Candle has decided to resurrect the Green Grass candle, AND it’s on sale!!!

Happy Day!!!