What Your Snacking Style Says About You
You’ve all heard that old adage “You are what you eat”; in fact, someone probably said it to you while you were scraping Rainbow Chip icing out of the container with a handful of Doritos. But what does it actually mean? Well, we at SparkLife are just as confused as you, so we took it upon ourselves to conduct a shoddily-constructed and entirely inaccurate investigation as to what your snacking style says about you. Bust out your peanut-butter-and-spaghetti-salad and prepare to wash it all down with an ice cold glass of ridiculous metaphors.
Snacking Style 1: The “Apocalypse Now”
You are an airborne contagious disease of snackage; your kitchen starts to sob hysterically whenever you approach. The Tyrannosaurus Rex of casual eating, you strike fear into the hearts of law-abiding citizens, Martha Stewart, and your Grandma Maplethorpe: no food, nor any clean surface, is safe as long as your mouth is functioning. When your stomach is a-rumblin’, logic and personal safety are out the window: you attack anything edible with the ferocity of a rabid jungle cat and the mentality of a starving man who has just spied a stack of Oreos. If you could, you would unhinge your jaw, Anaconda style, and swallow everything within your line of sight, plastic packaging included. Your friends and family are always armed with 10 pound bags of raw hamburger and handfuls of jelly beans, both of which can be used to sedate you if your furious appetite should rear its terrifyingly round head.
What it Means: You should become a personal bodyguard, or a dinosaur. Your latent rage would be extremely useful in both positions, as would your uncontrollable aggressiveness, lightning speed, and ability to block out all rational thought. Your personal role model is Joey Chestnut, the guy who ate 68 hot dogs in 10 minutes, or Tom Hanks in Castaway, because of his dedication to his craft.
Best Snacks for You: Pepto-Bismol, those 4-foot tall bags of popcorn, an entire elephant.
Snacking Style 2: The Grazer
You try never to be more than 3 feet away from a source of sustenance, but on occasions when you must stray far from the cafeteria or the kitchen cupboards, you carry a quart-sized bag of astronaut ice cream in your backpack and keep a fruit roll-up tucked behind your ear, even while sleeping. While you use your dominant hand to do homework, duel your mortal enemy with a light saber, or conspicuously pick your nose, your other hand is definitely either knuckle-deep in a box of Cheez-its or on its way to your constantly-open mouth. Even when you’re not chewing, you look like you are.
What it Means: You might want to consider purchasing an obscenely expensive cattle ranch on the great plains of Minnesota, or becoming the controversial leader of a Boy Scout pack. Because of your ambidexterity, you should covertly practice Ping-Pong in the basement late at night, and in three years surprise everyone, especially your nay-saying Uncle Randy, by winning the Ping-Pong World Championships and signing a sponsorship deal with the makers of the Tootsie Roll.
Best Snacks for You: Large stretches of unfertilized grass, 60 12-oz. Slurpees, an inexhaustible supply of Wheat Thins.
Snacking Style 3: The Connoisseur
You don’t snack, you create. Other lazy slobs may slather some Spray Cheese on a donut and call it a day, but you aren’t satisfied unless you use a crock-pot, a stainless steel waffle iron, and at least three pieces of your mother’s priceless heirloom china in the construction of your snack-related masterpiece. You spend several hours a day dicing tomatoes, ironing your chef’s coat, and talking about yourself in the third person. You perfected your crème brulee recipe at the age of six.
What it Means: In the next 10 years, you will either invent the “Erasable Permanent Marker” and found a wildly profitable global empire, or you will collapse under the weight of your own expectations and live in a box in your brother’s backyard. You may or may not develop an unhealthy but entirely understandable obsession with the reality TV show “Top Chef," and will most likely be arrested for attempting to kidnap one or more of the cast members.
Every Halloween, you will give out pan-seared salmon canapés, and the neighborhood kids will slash your tires (except for Martin, who will secretly be inspired to go to culinary school and will one day write a bestselling cookbook dedicated to your memory. Alas, you will be an embittered old hag by then, or a multi-bazillionaire who has forgotten how to read).
Best Snacks for You: Aged Bleu de Gex, ants on a log, the self-esteem of others.
Snacking Style 4: The “MOM, WE’RE OUT OF APPLE JACKS”
You couldn’t unwrap a Pop-Tart without the assistance of your parents, and you would likely starve if left to your own devices. Fortunately, your devoted mother never fails to cut the crusts off your marshmallow sandwiches or to re-stock the refrigerator with cheese sticks. There is usually a plate of freshly-baked cookies waiting on the table when you get home, and if there isn’t, you will whine your face off until one appears.
What it Means: When you are 38, you will realize that you have severe dependency issues, storm out of your mother’s basement, and declare that you are running away to climb Mount Everest. You will make it three blocks before you are brought to your knees by crippling hunger. Unable to figure out how to open a can of beans you find by the side of the road, you will crawl back home and beg forgiveness from your ever-loving parents. Later that night, you will feast on meatloaf and homemade fruit cake while swearing silently to one day escape and live the life you have always imagined. As a llama farmer.
Best Snacks for You: Dude, ask your mom.
What's your snacking style, Sparklebutts? I'm sort of an Apocalypse Now with a little bit of Grazer on top.