So it turns out that after you quit your career as a teacher after 11 years, a few things happen.

For one, you start to feel like a human being who deserves love and respect as opposed to a withering skin husk filled with dry erase marker fumes and the excuses of a thousand and one terrible parents.

For another, your former co-“workers” begin to un-polymorph and you realize they put an infinite amount of effort into trying to look good and be the “fun” teacher and very little effort into being…you know… actually good at getting children to learn.

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Lastly, you realize what an incredibly insatiable, red-eyed, time-eating monster teaching is and how little it gives in return.  During my final year in the classroom I taught a full load of middle school science classes, one reading class, a STEM class, and a different elective each quarter. I ran two after school Dungeons & Dragons clubs, took all the photos for our school social media accounts, was the admin for our school website, and made our yearbook. And I was also our instructional coach, which entailed me being lectured on the latest fads that were going to save education (we’re not going to give any homework this year!!!) Then I would pass that info on to my fellow teachers, so we could care passionately about those fads for a year or so (ok turns out we really should be giving homework!!!). Then those fads would be abandoned for the next book one of the superintendents happened to read, misunderstand, and attempt to institute poorly.

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Now that is not to say I didn’t love doing most of those extra things. I did. I loved teaching, and I was good at it. I love my students and I miss them. But at a certain point it becomes a bit of a drag when you’re the last teacher in the building every day, you’re exhausted, AND you have no money. And I’ve heard the patronizing mantra “teaching is not about the money” before and those people can shove it because what IS about the money are my bills. Like they’re exclusively about the money. Turns out I can’t pay for Hulu with my passion.

So, I’ve gone corporate! I have an office job with a cubicle and nice people around me, and when I go home I don’t have to worry about being terrorized by emails from principals who’ve inexplicably failed upward and don’t really have a firm grasp of what their job is, or what teachers do, or what children are.

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I can bash the education system and the ineptitude of many of those involved all day long. Literally all day. But let’s attempt to be somewhat positive here.

Bottom line: I feel like a person again, so I think I’m going to dive back into the foodoblogosphere! If you’ll have me, of course. I can provide references.

And, my friends, what better way to jump back in than with two of the most incomprehensible mainstream snack foods I’ve ever seen. When I saw these pop up in my news feed, I knew I had to have them. Hot Chicken Oreos and Wasabi Oreos. Exclusively released in China! I mean, how could I not buy them? They just sounded so…what’s the word…INSANE.

Granted Oreos have put themselves out there with a lot of interesting flavors since those watermelon ones dropped, but all of those flavors at least seemed remotely in the realm of “this is clearly a food item and not a dare.”

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These. Are. Foul.

The Hot Chicken Oreos have a gamey, herby nosegrope that is just unpleasant. It’s not like a buffalo sauce smell like I assumed it would be. It’s just pungent. It stunk up my cubicle. The heat on them surprised me a bit. They pack a little bit of a punch. But the flavor of the cream matches its smell. Gamey and chickeny and herby. Like a bouillon cube. So gross. The cream doesn’t meld in any way, shape or form with the chocolate cookies. They are just two very distinct, very incompatible flavors, that for some reason have ended up mashed together. And the taste…it lingers…and lingers…AND LINGERS. I could not get it out of my mouth. Ugh.

But somehow, the Wasabi Oreos were even worse. I actually thought these might work. Like maybe it’d be a sweet, creamy wasabi…or something. But like the Hot Chicken Oreos, these are just two distinct flavors that do not work together at all. These are the most literal Oreos of all time. Each Oreo is a blot of cream that tastes like wasabi and then two chocolate cookies. That’s it. These are harsh. Like top five worst things I’ve ever tasted.

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So that’s it. First review back. Thanks for reading. I feel a little rusty, but I think I’m going to try to keep things rolling.

Also, check back this week for a giveaway. Each Oreo box came with two separately packaged packs of five Oreos (I think five). I only opened one pack in each box, so if for someone reason you’d like to experience the taste of these abominations from halfway across the world, I’ll send them out to you and you can pass them around your office. Stay tuned, snacklings!

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