I promise this will be my last Cheetos-themed post for a while. But for some reason, I've been coming across a lot of weird stuff about Cheetos recently.
Like a lot of people during the great depression, William Bird of Jacksonville, Vermont had fallen on hard times. He was out of work, heavily in debt, and facing eviction. He feared he would soon be unable to feed his wife and three children. So Bird came up with a plan. He would sell himself to science.
Los Angeles Times - Nov 15, 1936
He announced his offer in November 1936 by sending a letter to the local press. It read, in part:
I’m sick and tired of being in debt and without a job. Everything seems to have failed. There’s no work to speak of. I’m in debt $400. Food is running low. The fire in our kitchen stove is going out. My wife and three children need clothes to keep them warm during the winter. I’ve got to keep them together. There seems to be only one hope. I’d like to sell myself for $2500…
If there is some doctor or group of doctors or scientists who’ll advance me $2500, I’ll agree to pay it back in two years. I have to sort of sell or mortgage myself because that’s the only security I can put up.
Now, if I failed to pay back the money when the time was up, I’d let them do anything they want with me. I’d let them try and kind of experiment on me.
Soon he sweetened the offer by specifying that it would be all right with him if he didn't survive the experimentation process. Naturally, his wife was opposed to the whole idea.
The media spread his unusual offer nationwide. Reporters noted that he was a prime physical specimen — six feet tall, 175 pounds, and a sturdy workman of good habits. In other words, excellent guinea pig material.
An anonymous Texan took sympathy on Bird and sent him $10. However, the scientific community wasn't tempted. No doctors took him up on his offer.
Although Bird didn't manage to sell himself as a human guinea pig, his story nevertheless had a happy ending. Within days of making his appeal, Bird was given a job on a construction project. He said, "I don't know who was responsible for giving me work, but I sure appreciate it." But he also noted that, despite now having a job, his offer still stood. He was still willing to sell himself to science, should some doctor ever want to take him up on it.
I didn’t realize this when I posted yesterday about Cheetos lip balm, but it turns out that this past week Cheetos announced it would be hosting the brands first-ever runway show, as part of New York Fashion Week. From the press release:
Cheetos will unveil the Cheetos Flamin' Haute look in New York at the brand's first-ever runway show and style bar and is asking fans to show off their #CheetosFlaminHaute look for a chance to gain entry... the brand will debut high-fashion-yet-playful looks with clothes, hair, makeup and nail styling that takes 'looking like a snack' to a whole new level.
A number of sites (such as USA Today) list Cheetos Lip Balm as one of the greatest product flops of all time. I don't agree. It was definitely weird, but I can't find any evidence it flopped.
Some context: it came on the market in 2005, created by Lotta Luv, a New York cosmetics company that specialized in licensing flavors from well-known brands. Some of the other odd lip-balm flavors they offered included Hostess Ding Dongs, Cracker Jack, Junior Mints, fourteen flavors of Snapple, and Lay’s Sour Cream and Onion. Their target market was girls 8 to 14. Apparently, young girls loved these weird lip balms.
As far as I can tell, the Cheetos lip balm remained available until 2011, which doesn’t seem like a flop.
In 2018, Ohio State University became home to the world’s first bacon vending machine. It was a promotional stunt dreamed up by the Ohio Pork Council.
Although the machine got lots of publicity, I'm having a hard time figuring out what exactly came out of the machine. As far as I can tell, it wasn't a piece of sizzling, freshly-cooked bacon. Instead, it was a slice of pre-cooked, cold bacon. Still, it was bacon.
The stunt was only a limited-time affair, but the machine proved so popular that one is now being installed at Buckeyes' Stadium.
Alex Boese
Alex is the creator and curator of the Museum of Hoaxes. He's also the author of various weird, non-fiction books such as Elephants on Acid.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.
Chuck Shepherd
Chuck is the purveyor of News of the Weird, the syndicated column which for decades has set the gold-standard for reporting on oddities and the bizarre.
Our banner was drawn by the legendary underground cartoonist Rick Altergott.