I Guess I'll Go Eat Worms

Since I already stuck my toe in the grossology pond with boogers yesterday, I thought I'd risk one more little foray before backing out of the topic completely (at least for the time being).

So again, a warning. If you're easily grossed-out, run away. Run far, far away. No mercy if you stick around.

My family loves Harry Potter. Yes, I know that puts us in the "Sheeple" category, but we just don't care.

Who wouldn't find a mystical world--where some of life's problems could be solved by a potion or a wave of a magic wand, appealing---at least in fantasy?

If that makes us Satan's Spawn, then so be it.

A couple of years ago during the holidays, my nephew was visiting, and I bought all the guys Bertie Bott's Flavor Beans from a big display at the grocery store.

For the Muggles who must live in caves and aren't up on Potter-lore--in the books and movies--Bott's Flavor Beans are jelly beans that come in surprise flavors. They range from the sublime (Toasted Marshmallow) to the grotesque (Vomit).

Jelly Belly, the company that reportedly was the favorite jelly bean brand of former President Ronald Reagan, got the contract to produce Bertie Bott's Flavor Beans in the US.

Ok, call me naive, but I thought that the gross flavors would really be like lime flavor masquerading as "spinach", or licorice disguised as "black pepper". I know I was brought up in the era of "Slime" and "Garbage Pail Kids" trading cards, but those weren't actually items that were meant to be consumed.


Slap me upside the head with a cluestick for being such a dumbass.

The flavor guide doesn't actually encompass all of the available flavors. There are more, such as earthworm, rotten egg, soap, spaghetti and bacon.

A jelly bean with the essence of smoked pork. Oh joy.

So, silly Moi, I ate a vomit-flavored bean.

Yes. It tasted like a tiny, chewy nugget of barf.

Not your "I had one too many tequila shots with lime and salt" kind of hurl, but more like your garden variety "I was just minding my own business, had a bit of fettucine, and some inconsiderate ass who was hoarding his sick days came to work ill and infected me with the stomach flu and I projectile vomited for 24 hours" kind of ralphage.

I even tried a soap-flavored one, which brought back childhood memories of getting my mouth washed out when I dropped the f-bomb. Blech.

I didn't have the guts to try anything else.

And neither did my guys. Wussies, every single one of them.

So, as a Bertie Bott's veteran, what I want to know is:

How in the HELL do they know what ear wax and dirt is supposed to taste like, and who in the HELL do they get to do the taste testing?

I'm serious. Are there professional taste-testers for this kind of thing?

"I don't know about you Chuck, but I think these vomit beans could do with another flavorful squirt of stomach acid!"

What about earthworms? Is some guy
(because I doubt a woman would ever be stupid enough to take this job, sex discrimination bedamned!) comparing a plate of the real thing against the product?

"Gee, this earthworm-flavored bean just doesn't have the same smoky, piquant and mulchy taste as these squirmy little guys right here!"


And now we've come full circle--back to boogers.

Since mucus--and boogers--are products of our bodies, wouldn't they (in theory) be affected by our personal environments and what we eat?

You know what I mean. If you eat garlic, your breath secretes a garlic odor. If you eat burritos or cabbage, the rambling pandambling phaduckas that fly out of your butt have your own special joie de vivre.

To me, the logical conclusion would probably be that the Bott's booger bean taste tester is prolly working off his own samples.

At least I would sincerely hope so.

"Mmm, yeah, that tastes right!"

So in effect, those who dare to eat Bertie Bott's Booger Flavor Beans are probably partaking in a taste of someone else's snot.

Don't get mad at me. I'm just taking this to its ugly, inevitable and obvious conclusion.

I think I'm going to fast for a week.

Want to join me?