Tomorrow morning, instead of jumping out of bed, devouring a Biggie Smalls sized bowl of Trix and an overflowing cup of Swiss Miss - the most heavenly yet politically neutral drink ever created - and settling in to an uproarious morning with my friends Conky, Pterri, and Miss Yvonne, I will likely instead carefully spoon a trifling Yoplait fat-free yogurt and tune in to see what my homeboy Lester Holt will be cooking up on Today's off the chain Saturday edition because, despite what's been happening all day in my head, it's not actually 1989 anymore.For some reason at approximately twelve thirty pm today, my brain brought back something that probably would have been better off staying lost in the subregions of my cerebellum forever. For the life of me, I cannot fathom why my central nervous system decided to play this funny joke on me today, but shortly after finishing my lunchtime Twig-N-Berries smoothie, the little voice in my head starting squealing, "He loves Fruity Pebbles in a MA-JAH way!" over and over and over again. "Wha?" I first thought. Who loves Fruity Pebbles in a MA-JAH way?
And then
it dawned on me. OOOOH! Barney Rubble aka The Master Rapper (dope name, eh?) loved Fruity Pebbles in a MA-JAH way. In 1989. This is the commercial that wouldn't let go of my conscious when I was snapping on my fancypants Guess overalls in the morning. This is the commercial that plagued my head when I was trying in vain to study my Wordly Wise list. PLEASE tell me that you remember this, too. Be warned: if you click on the imbedded video below (how's that for mad technological skillz, by the way?), Fred is going to take over your brainwaves for at least twelve hours in a MA-JAH way. But, do it. It's thirty seconds of loony nostalgia, worth it for Barney's wack bling alone. Good luck, friends. You're gonna need it. Guess that's a rap...
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