September 20, 2007:
Obviously, when you vow to spend 45 days writing 45 different articles about 45 different Halloweeny things, you end up buying a lot of stuff that you wouldn't have purchased otherwise.
Look, I'm just like the rest of you. If I wasn't doing this site, do you think I'd have actually spent 25 bucks on Talking Thru Boris? No way, I'd play with him for a minute in the store and move on, just like everybody else. Still would've bought this kickass candle, though. But you would've, too.
So, what I do is go on these "hunts." I may make it sound like I spend each and every holiday season just casually strolling through department stores on a near-daily basis, and I'm not sure why me as a twenty-something male would want to perpetuate such theories, but the truth is, I'm just looking for shit to write about.
It's nothing like normal, everyday shopping. It's like I have some sort of maddening fever, speeding like a slouchy pinball through aisles and around shopping wagons as I chuck random shit into a handbasket without every once considering that I really can't afford to blow money on an extra set of paper towels just because they have bats and witches printed on them.
Still, I love the hunt. It's not a chore. This is the chore. What, you think I actually enjoy writing every weeknight for two months, on top of all the work I do in real life? No! I do it for the hunt! I do it because it's fun to justify the purchase of something like Talking Thru Boris and get to write it off months later as a tax deduction.
I can't count the times I've seen people stand in random stores holding objects that were very dear to them, only to slowly place them back on the racks because they just didn't really need them. Well, I've got over 30 articles left to write before Halloween. I need them. Doing the Halloween Countdown is more or less my way of not feeling bad about about buying pumpkin-themed party lights and inflatable lawn vampires as big as my car.
This is a pretty odd way to lead into a story about Edy's limited edition pumpkin-flavored ice cream, but my alternative paragraph, printed below, just didn't seem to cut it as a meaty intro.
Edy's has come out with a new pumpkin-flavored ice cream.
Actually, I did have a point with my blathering up there: That the Halloween season is a license for everyone to buy at least a few pointless things, even if they don't have to write about them. I hate anything pumpkin-flavored and would only describe my relationship with ice cream as "I tolerate it," but there's something about spotting a gigantic ice cream tub marked "LIMITED EDITION PUMPKIN" that would make any Halloween fan feel obligated to buy it.
It's weird. Smoking and age have dulled my senses to the point where I really don't mind smell of pumpkin meat anymore, but I still stay away from anything made from pumpkins firmly due to the memories of how sick they made me as a child. I don't know what was up with my nose back then, but it could not handle pumpkin guts. I used to make other people do the initial cutting-and-scooping during pumpkin carving sessions, only going back near the thing after its gooey viscera was long discarded. And even then, the residual smell made my mouth bleed.
But then I'll go to Starbucks, drink the Pumpkin Spice Latte, and really not mind it. In fact, I'd say that I even like it. True, I'd probably just get regular coffee from a regular deli if it wasn't holiday-themed, but it's not like I have to strike a pact with Satan just to get it down. I take this to mean that the generalities of pumpkin innards no longer bother me, and yet, if you put a slice of pumpkin pie in front of me, I will fucking kill you.
I decided it was time to stop being a pussy-about-pumpkins. I'm a pussy about enough things, and if I had to pick one thing to stop being a pussy about, it might as well be something easy like eating pumpkins.
And, hooray! It really isn't that bad. Actually, it takes almost like an ice cream version of Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte, who I very proudly announce as our new paid sponsor. A closer inspection of the fun graphics on the tub reveal pumpkin pie clipart, and if that's what this is supposed to taste like, maybe I'll stop being a pussy about pumpkin pie, too. It all tastes very gingerbreadish to me -- would that be a correct comparison for something pumpkin pie flavored? Tell me.
Still, while it's easy to stomach, it's still kind of a strange flavor to base an ice cream on. Even at my most objective, I don't think it really works. Can't let my euphoria over finally eating something with the word "pumpkin" in it cloud my journalistic duty. Then again, who am I to judge? Eating pumpkins is new territory for me.
I wasn't sure which type of ice cream cone would photograph better, so I bought a box of waffle cones and a box of Comet Cups. Remember the "fever" I mentioned earlier? I needed one ice cream cone for one photo, and I let myself buy two boxes which will have to be thrown away because there's no room in the cabinets due to all of the many cereal boxes leftover from old blog reviews. I'm not going to get a Packrat avatar on Neopets by throwing that shit away.
In a tight decision, I'll give the nod to the sugar cone, which aside from being a generally more delicious ice cream cone also just contrasts better with the light orange ice cream. I know Edy's was going for a "natural ingredients" motif, but that ice cream sure could've used a few drips of crazy orange food dye. When I eat it, I can't tell if I'm celebrating Halloween or Easter.
I'd wanted to end this hard-hitting and succinct review with the previous paragraph, but as an avid collector of the ten thousand Halloween recipe magazines that sit near checkout lines with foam pumpkins and/or mummified hot dogs on the cover, I know that it's WRONG to do an article on Halloween ice cream and not include at least one photo of the classic Upside-Down Cone That Looks Something Like A Witch:
As much as I'd like to claim that I was going for a "oh what a world" mid-melting witch, the truth is that double-churned pumpkin-flavored ice cream just doesn't hold its shape very well. If I didn't act quick, I would've been decorating a milky puddle. And I hate milk.
