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So. Circus Peanuts. You probably think you don't know what candy we're talking about here, but in reality, you do. Look at the picture, and you'll remember. I think every American child has been subjected to this pasty foam terror at some point in their life. Some people even (gasp!) like them! For instance, my roommate Brock claims to enjoy them. "You can't do Circus Peanuts! Those are good!" You'll notice that he didn't participate in this review, however. That should tell you something about how much he likes Circus Peanuts. (Interesting fact: the one and only time Brock DID participate in a bad candy review was with Happy Plums. That should tell you something about how much he liked those.) (Another interesting note: this is our first American candy. So you can all get off of our backs, fer cryin' out loud.)
Where was I? Oh yes, Circus Peanuts. Circus Peanuts are orangish, pinkish, squishy foam candies that are about as big as your thumb. They are, obviously, shaped like peanuts. They don't really smell like anything, so at least they aren't offensive on THAT end. In a way, they don't even really taste BAD. I guess. At least, not as bad as some of the other candies we've reviewed. Well, they do, but the whole flavor thing is just pretty underwhelming. Which is what makes them so gross. Let's put it this way: go down to your local Toys'R'Us. Find the pool toy section and locate the closest thing you can to a bodyboard. Compress the foam of the bodyboard using your mighty vise-like grip, and then take a bite. Now you're eating Circus Peanuts! Whee! In any case, they taste nothing like peanuts, if you were wondering. Nor do they taste like the circus, I imagine, though I've yet to lick a clown or elephant. 
To be fair, we bought our bag of Circus Peanuts at Pic'N'Save, the bastion of hellish, expired bulk foods and broken plastic trinkets (not to mention broken dreams). So it's not like we picked up the freshest bag we could find. In fact, they were marked down from $.99 to $.25, which would only add to the excitement, I figured. Well, I was wrong. When all was said and done, we were left with very little excitement and a whole bunch of stale, orange marshmallows. We were pretty bummed. And really reluctant to actually eat them. Unfortunately, we didn't have much of a choice. But first we ran some tests! Mercilessly pounding the crap out of a Circus Peanut with a hammer yielded little in the way of scientific fact, but proved to be incredibly therapeutic. Those suckers sure are resilient! Check out the way the Peanut feebly clings for dear life to the hammer head. Die Peanut, die! 
We also stuck one in the microwave and nuked it on high for 30 seconds. Now THAT was cool! Within five seconds, the Circus Peanut had quadrupled in size and started to burn! How useful! Using microwaves, we could quadruple the world's supply of Circus Peanuts and feed the starving masses! Or kill them, depending on the strength of their stomach linings. Amazing what you can do with modern technology, no? Unfortunately, it was impossible to rid my kitchen of the smell of burnt Peanut. That was not cool at all. 
We also fashioned one of the Circus Peanuts into some sort of ancient, Indiana Jones idol. Perhaps the indigenous peoples of Madagascar once worshipped and paid homage to the might Circus Peanut gods, lest they unleash their wrath and turn their crops of maize into pink, foamy, inedible lumps. Or perhaps not. Who knows? You sure don't, smart guy, so shut your trap! At this point, we were running out of Peanuts, so we decided that it was finally time I stick one in my mouth. Because the Peanut was probably 12 years old, the bastard was rock-hard, so I had to suck on the foamy lump for a couple of seconds to loosen it up. It didn't taste like much. It had a very faint orange, pasty flavor to it, like eating powdered fruit. But it didn't have that citrus tang to it... it had a much more dull flavor. When I actually bit into it though, ho boy! It was... well, still completely underwhelming. What disturbed me so much though was that the Peanut was dissolving in my mouth faster than cotton candy, but with the consistency of moldy flour, which made it impossible not to gag on. And still that dull, half-assed flavor taunted me. And somebody needs to explain to me why, for chrissake WHY, was it gritty? Thinking about it now, weeks after the actual tasting, that fact still gives me chills. I mean, gritty?!? Come on! Why, in the name of god and all that is holy, was my Peanut gritty!?! GODDAMMIT, WHY WON'T THEY JUST GIVE ME A BREAK?!? JUST ONCE! WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE GRITTY?!? WHY THE GRITS, DAMN YOU?!? WHYYYYYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyyy... Whew. I'm sorry. I'm still a bit of an emotional wreck. I just need to calm down, and be rational. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax. Okay. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!
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