The Pudding Pop Crusade

In the course of my highly professional Google-powered research, I discovered that many, many people on the internet have expressed sorrow over the loss of Jello Pudding Pops (which occurred sometime in the late 90s if my information serves me). But no one has really organized a campaign to bring it back. UNTIL NOW.

And then I found this little article where someone wrote to Kraft (owner of the Jello brand) and got a response that basically said they’d consider bringing the Pudding Pop back if enough consumers expressed interest.

That’s where we come in. I have done all this fantabulous research today (and very little “actual” work) to get the following information together for you, the Pudding Pop fans, so that we can start letting Kraft know that we want them back. Here’s how you can help:

1. Visit Kraft’s contact form and write a little blurb. For subject choose “product availability.” And then you fill in the form and mail it along. Here’s the cheesy little blurb I wrote – feel free to take and use/modify it if you don’t want to write your own:

“I’m writing you today to request that your product team consider the renewal of Jello Pudding Pops. As a child they were one of my favorite frozen desserts and I was saddened to learn that their production had been halted a few years ago. I know several other people who share my sentiments, and I’m hoping that if you hear from enough of us you’ll look into producing them again. As a part of the 20-something generation I know that yearning for things that bring back memories of the 80s is a popular trend these days, and I’m certain that Jello Pudding Pops would sell very well were they to be reproduced. Thanks for your time!”

2. Call Kraft Headquarters and talk to the Consumer Resource Manager, Ms. Kim McMiller. The toll-free general information line is 800.323.0768, or you could call 847.646.2000 which will reach the office where she works. I am trying to locate a direct email address for Ms. McMiller and if I find one I will add it to this page. You can also-

3. Send a letter or fax to Ms. McMiller. You can even use my cheesy blurb from above! Contact info:

Kraft Foods, Inc.
Consumer Resource & Information Center
1 Kraft Court
Glenview, IL 60025
ATTN: Ms. Kim McMiller

The fax number is 847.646.5241.


4. Tell your friends to help us bring back Jello Pudding Pops! I only have about 5 readers so if we just rely on this post it’s not going to do a whole lot of good. But tell your friends, and send them here!

Seriously, though, they aren’t going to just randomly bring back such a wonderful food without sufficient consumer demand. Speak up! It’s the American Way! Or something.

Updated 05.07.04: They’re back! As of earlier this year, Pudding Pops can be found in your grocery freezer again. I’d like to think that we had something to do with it, but even if we didn’t, they’re back!

They are manufactured by Popsicle, and if you want to find a store near you that sells them, you can go here. Choose “Popsicle” as the brand, and then find Pudding Pops on the product list (under J for JELL-O), and enter your zip code and the search radius. Even so, they can be hard to find sometimes. Anyway. Boom! Enjoy the pops!

9 Comments March 6, 2003


Questions and thoughts of the day:

1. What’s up with the Salem jackets? We have wondered this for a long time. If you live around here you’ve seen them, probably every single freakin’ day of the week. Everyone has a Salem jacket. I didn’t even go to Salem and sometimes I kinda want one just to fit in. #2 has a theory that when you attend SHS and they pass out your schedule on the first day of school, they also give you your maroon and gray jacket. But seriously, either they have the most school spirit in the valley, or they’re a cult. I vote cult.

2. I wonder about the stories of the clothes TG and I get at the Goodwill. Take my USCG shirt for example. This shirt is soooooo worn and soft and comfy, with not a single hole in it, and although I’m glad to have found it I wonder why it was donated in the first place. Maybe the owner gave it to his girlfriend and then they broke up and she didn’t want it anymore. Or maybe he (or she) quit the coast guard and didn’t want any reminders around anymore. It just seems like this lovely little shirt is lost, like it never should have been someone’s castoff. I’d never give away a shirt as soft and comfy as this one unless it once had some emotional value for me and then lost it. I think there’s a sad story behind this shirt, but so far it hasn’t given me any sad dreams. But I’ve only slept in it one night so you never know.

At one time I actually had more thoughts but they seem to have escaped me. I’ll add more later.

1 Comment March 3, 2003

Mauled Out

We had a weird night. Well, make that afternoon/evening. It was weird.

Side note – I am listening to my laundry running. That’s a very soothing sound.

Okay, so today/tonight, TG and Witchy and I headed out to the mall so I could blow even more of my paycheck, and somewhere along the way we decided we wanted to see Chicago so we called #2’s cell phone and told her to meet us at the mall, ’cause we knew she’d want to see it again. And we weren’t wrong. So she met us.

The good news – I FINALLY FOUND SOME JEANS THAT FIT ME THAT I LIKE!!! I got ’em at the Gap – Gap Long & Lean Jeans. I asked the fitting room attendant if my ass looked okay in them and my sisters were all horrified. And in the Gap I got two compliments on my new Swell jewelry, once from the fitting room attendant and once from the gay cashier. And to the gay cashier I was like “thanks, it’s from Target,” and he says “it’s from TarZHAY when it looks like that, [honey].” I put [honey] in brackets because that part was implied. But it made me feel good, esp. since I was wearing this lovely new green beaded jewelry with the same black sweater I’ve been wearing for about a week and my slouchy brown pants and overall felt kind of frumpy.

It was seriously time for some laundry washing. So I did it.

TG and I apparently went insane and decided to visit the following stores: Hollister, The Buckle, and Abercrombie and Fitch. We snapped out of our insanity moments before deciding that Wet Seal would be a good idea too.

Hollister was okay, although I’m still biased against stores that don’t carry sizes above 10. They have good shirts. The other two? Are we crazy?

Why is it that clothes are made for either micro-small people or plus-size people? Is it really too much to ask for some normal-sized clothes, and shirts made for chicks with boobs? I mean, E is a size 6 for jebus’ sake and SHE has trouble finding shirts that fit her chest, and she’s probably only a B cup.

Also, while I’m bitching, can someone please tell those freaky little goth chicks that Jncos went out about five years ago? (if, in your opinion, they were ever really in) We saw a whole tribe of them, all decked out in Hot Topic and Jncos.

Man, I think I’m turning into a scary old hag. I need to get out of this place, back to a city like Chicago or somewhere.

Anyway, so we went to see Chicago the movie and it was wonderful, just as everyone said, and this couple in the row in front of us got up and left with LITERALLY less than a minute left in the film. I mean, it wasn’t credits yet but it was obvious that the film had less than a minute to go and they get up and walk in front of us and leave.


THEN we went back to Target. Because what’s a shopping trip without a stop at Target, I ask you? I got a lovely little purple sweater with snaps and some eyeliner and I bought TG a pair of cheap jeans. And people kept stopping #2 and asking for assistance ’cause she was still in her Targetwear.

And Baraka gave me shit because he said I broke my promise to talk to him every time I visit. But I swear, I DO talk to him every time I see him! And he freaked me out ’cause he said my Target card was going to be cancelled, but it was just a ploy to make me apply for the Target Visa. And it didn’t work!

WHEN are my Girl Scout cookies going to arrive??

Leave a Comment March 1, 2003


Now here is some scary stuff.

So, according to this article, now they’re going to assign a color-coding system to all passengers on airplanes based on information such as “credit reports and bank account activity.” And I am scared.

For one thing, I’m always nervous about anything that uses my credit report as a means of evaluating my character, because my credit report isn’t the best. In fact, it kind of sucks.

But I also think that this system is going to turn out “catching” a lot more innocent people than terrorists, and frankly, I think they’re going way too far into invading our civil liberties. I think they crossed the line awhile ago.

I’m willing to endure a slightly longer wait. I’m willing to have my ugly driver’s license photo out and ready at every checkpoint. I don’t pack nail files or clippers or swiss army knives or anything remotely dangerous into my carry-on luggage anymore. But I’m getting really sick and tired of some other things, and I don’t even fly all that often.

I cannot STAND having my suitcase searched at the ticket line, in front of every freakin’ passenger in the airport. This happened in Greensboro, and I really don’t need to have someone sticking his hand into my underwear compartment and rummaging through my grungy old bras and panties, or opening up my makeup bag and taking out random off-brand makeup to hold up to the light, or moving all my clothes around and taking out my curling iron, etc. ad nauseam. Fuck, if they’re going to go through all my shit at the airport now, I’m going to bring it all in a trash bag and make them fold and pack it after they’re doing rummaging through it all.

At Hartsfield on the way back they just x-rayed my suitcase, and that’s fine, I suppose. I’m still not keen on having all my stuff scrutinized but that’s a concession I’m willing to make. Just don’t go through my bags in the ticket line.

And then I get to the security checkpoint. I always have my ID and boarding pass out and ready, even though they don’t always check it (Greensboro, I’m looking at you). I take my coat off, my watch off, and, if I’m wearing boots, I take those off too and put it all in the trays to make their lives easier. If I miss any of those things, I inevitably set off a metal detector or something and spend ten minutes getting wanded and frisked. Sometimes it happens anyway, even if I don’t set off the metal detectors.

And, of course, there’s the bag. I have a red canvas messenger bag that is my carry-on for flying. Apparently something about that style of bag is suspicious, because they ALWAYS GO THROUGH IT after it’s x-rayed. All I ever have in it is usually some papers and magazines, my wallet, a bottle of water and sometimes my cell phone. And on this latest business trip, I didn’t even take the red bag. #2 has a black one exactly like it and I borrowed that one and still I got searched.

And the thing is, I don’t look or act any differently than anyone else in the airport. I hate all these things, but I never complain about them – in fact I try my best to be cheerful and patient and understanding because I know these people are just doing their jobs and they’re trying to keep us safe. I look completely normal, average, American. I dress normally. And I am always, always, ALWAYS flagged for some sort of extra scrutiny.

Apparently I look shifty.

And that’s a problem, because if they start color-coding people based on random things like their credit reports, I’m always going to look shifty, and I’ll always be the one coded “yellow” and watched like a hawk by everyone in the airport when all I’m trying to do is get somewhere like everyone else.

And if I, someone who looks and acts completely normal, am coded “yellow,” what’s going to happen to other innocent travelers?

Leave a Comment February 28, 2003


In high school and for part of my college summers, I worked at a fast food restaurant that shall remain nameless (but rhymes with Wurger Wing). One summer I came back for work and there I saw Bondz. A little younger than I, but super-cute. Instant crush.

We flirted non-stop at work, rumors began to fly, and then he actually did ask me out on a date. So I went, and…

…it sucked. It was like taking my little brother out to the movies. There was no attraction whatsoever; no spark. So I kept being friendly with him at work, but wouldn’t go out with him again.

But he had fallen in love, as other co-workers would later tell me, and didn’t take it very well when I kind of began to brush him off.

So one night we had a particularly melodramatic episode out in the parking lot after work, and he left pissed.

The next time I came in to work, there was a note clipped to my time card. With a bunch of my surly punk teenage coworkers standing around, I opened it to find:

The lyrics to the Phil Collins song “Against All Odds,” written down. With certain parts underlined, like “We’ve shared the laughter and the pain/And even shared the tears/You’re the only one/Who really knew me at all.”

DUDE. We flirted at work and went out on ONE DATE. I barely knew anything about him. I knew he was a virgin and wanted to be a meteorologist and that he’d rather make burgers than work the drive-thru. That’s about it.

So, I guess it makes me a heartless bitch, and I should have felt really bad, but I kinda laughed about it.

I mean, Phil Collins, for Jebus’ sake.

Epilogue: #2 worked at a different Wurger Wing where Bondz later ended up a manager a year or so later (long after I’d left the land of fast food). All the girls she worked with there had massive crushes on him. Whenever I’d go in there to visit #2 or grab something to eat, said girls would always be kind of bitchy to me. I asked #2 why at some point, and she said it was because Bondz talked about me ALL THE TIME and they were jealous.


Those freaks. If they want Phil Collins lyrics clipped to their time cards, they can have them.

1 Comment February 21, 2003

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