Cinnamon Toast Crunch Quotes

If the world was ending, I’d grab some Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and probably just…go crazy

Hot Pockets - what were you really doing in there?" I turn to Gabe, that orange shirt glowing in the setting sun. "Sorry?" "Hot Pockets," he says. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch," I reply. "Are we saying things we like?" "It's a thing. You have to tell the truth. It trumps penguin party." "Nothing trumps penguin party.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch–encrusted French toast with fresh whipped cream.

I crack open two eggs and beat them in a bowl with some rice milk, pouring a few tablespoons of cinnamon and sugar, then some brown sugar and nutmeg. After putting some Cap'n Crunch cereal into a small sandwich bag, I take a frying pan and beat the bag until the pieces are all smashed and powdery, like a great dry rub. I pick up a piece of bread and dip it in my French toast mix. Then I dip it in the crushed Cap'n Crunch and cook it in the frying pan until it's a nice, golden brown and ready to flip on the other side.

many ratty Kmart bras I needed to replace with ones that could actually hold my tits up; so many albums with actual liner notes to replace the ones my friends had dubbed for me. Finally, I could read the lyrics to all those Portishead songs I was kind of making up in my head! I wish I could say that I bought some fly shit and a fancy ride, but really I just bought a lot of Gap shirts and name-brand sodas. I’ma assume some broke people are reading this and you know what I mean. I was making it rain dollar bills as I worked my way through the aisles at the Jewel, filling my cart with grape Crush and DiGiorno pizzas and CINNAMON TOAST MOTHERFUCKING CRUNCH.

Dinner?" "No." "Jalebi ice cream sandwich?" he called out, referring to one of her favorite childhood treats. Her betraying lips quivered at the corners. "No." "How about a snack? French toast crunch? Scooby Snacks? Trix with extra sugar? Pakoras and pretzels? Roast beef on rye with mustard and three thinly sliced pickles with a side of chocolate milk?" Laughter bubbled up inside her. He had done this almost every day to guess the after-school snack even though she had always taped the weekly family meal plan to the refrigerator door. "Pav bhaji, chaat, panipuri...?" Liam had loved her father's Indian dishes. "I'm not listening." But of course, she was. "Two grilled cheese sandwiches with ketchup and zucchini fries? Masala dosa...?" His voice grew faint as she neared the end of the block. "Cinnamon sugar soft pretzels, tomato basil mozzarella toasts...

Hot Pockets - what were you really doing in there?" I turn to Gabe, that orange shirt glowing in the setting sun. "Sorry?" "Hot Pockets," he says. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch," I reply. "Are we saying things we like?

You…got me ice cream and cereal?” Two scoops of vanilla ice cream and something similar to Cinnamon Toast Crunch to top it off. “Do you still like it?” I nod. “It’s my favorite. I guess I just…didn’t expect you to remember.” Soft amusement unfurls on his mouth, making my stomach somersault. “Nora, you ate this at least four times a week in college. There’s no way I could forget that.