My Treatise Against Grape Nuts

This post has nothing to do with the road to California, so I'll fudge this one in, saying I might work it into a script somehow (no), someway (nope), sometime (never happening).

Fuck Grape Nuts. Seriously. If there were ever a Judas that would turn on the rest of cereal-kind, it would be Grape Nuts. I cannot think of another "cereal" that is any more the antithesis of morning cereal as I have come to know it.

Let's look at what Grape Nuts are. They're miniature rocks of turd-tightening fiber. They're so small, it's like eating coarse sand. The crunch level is off the charts. The same milk that makes Crispix cry uncle would have to spend its entire afternoon trying to breakdown Grape Nuts. But it's all well enough being crunchy - many cereals want to be crunchy. The real reason I dislike Grape Nuts is 'cause they make me look stupid.

No other cereal is as deceiving as Grape Nuts. Any other brand, the routine stays mostly the same: pour into bowl until the top of the cereal is roughly 1.5 centimeters below the rim, add milk to fill, add fruit toppings or additional sugar to taste. Try pouring a full bowl of Grape Nuts. The dense rock sand practically stops the milk in its place. Pouring milk to fill results in vastly inferior milk-to-cereal ratios. You'll end up refilling your milk supply three times before you're jaw breaks off from all the cereal left. Even when one pours a more modest measurement of Grape Nuts, gauging proper milk levels is near impossible. Even if you do get close, you'll never have leftover milk. And leftover cereal milk is the sweet honey nectar of my morning. Hell, even if leftover Grape Nuts milk were possible, I don't know that I'd want to drink that rank infusion.

You can keep eating Grape Nuts if you need you're old, dying, or already dead inside - but I don't recommend it. Do yourself a favor. Kick the Nuts.