Easter's just around the corner. Time for my annual Peeps fix.

Peeps, for any of you who may have just dropped in from another planet, are sugar-covered marshmallow candy chicks and bunnies that show up on store shelves this time of year. Sugar-coated sugar, basically. They belong to one of my favorite food groups -- nutrition-free calories. They have absolutely no redeeming value except for tasting good if you go for sugar-coated sugar.

I remember Peeps always being yellow and always being chicks when I was a kid. Today, Peeps come in a variety of pastel colors -- yellow, pink, blue. And they show up on the shelves as bunnies as well as chicks, which is a bit odd since bunnies don't peep.

Peeping Pumpkins and Santas: It's Just Not Right

Actually, I've learned Peeps aren't just for Easter anymore. I found this out by visiting the Peeps website, complete with its spiffy "Always In Season" tagline.

You can now buy Peeps for Valentine's Day, Halloween and Christmas. Somehow that just doesn't seem right. I'm not ready for a pumpkin Peeps. I've never noticed Peeps except at Easter. Are the unEaster Peeps new? Or just invisible to me because I expect them to show up along with the Easter Bunny?

I feel it's my duty to offer a word of warning to those of you unfamiliar with Peeps. Peeps are very deceiving. They look so innocent sitting there in their shiny coats of pastel-colored sugar. And they're oh so soft. There’s something a little wicked and sensual about fondling them.

Don't be fooled. Those soft, sugary creatures are capable of enflaming great passion. The people I know either love them or hate them. But they're never indifferent once they’ve eaten their first Peeps.

Every year, I treat myself to one box of Peeps. They're usually gone before I can drive the few blocks between the grocery store and my house. One box is enough. But Easter wouldn't be Easter with my annual Peeps fix.

A note to the squeamish: Skip the rest of this paragraph. The Little Blue Peeps in the picture. This year's fix. The Little Blue Peeps have lost their . . . Rest assured, they were brave to the end. Accepted their fate without a peep.

A 12-Step Program for Twinkies Junkies?

Peeps are just one of my secret addictions from the nutrition-free-calories food group. I also like Twinkies, Spam, Cheese Whiz and Chef Boyardee. I do the canned ravioli and the spaghetti and meatballs that comes in a box.

We love to make fun of every one of these products. But admit it. You've heard of all of them. You've probably eaten all of them. And at some point in your life, you liked them. Maybe you're like me and still do.

I don't eat them very often any more. But every once in a while -- like my annual box of Peeps -- I treat myself to a package of Twinkies or a fried Spam sandwich on white toast with mustard. And I don't plan to quit.

Say what you will about them, every one of these artery cloggers tastes good as they begin their journey toward your waistline and your artery walls.

And, for all the fun we poke at them, you can Google any one of these products and find a fun promotional website, a Wikipedia entry and a whole host of entries with recipes and goofy things people do with them. Peeps jousting and Peeps slaughters, for example. Or deep-friend Twinkies, the ultimate hockey puck to the heart.

The attention and fond feelings we have for these products, even as we poke fun at them, is brand equity. One way to measure that is by looking to see if the brand has been adopted positively into the venacular of our culture. All of the ones I've mentioned meet that test. Everyone knows and loves these brands. We like to laugh at them, know odd facts about them and use them as a point of reference for other events and products. Spam does especially well,¹ which is ironic given what its name has come to mean in relation to email and just how much ribbing it takes.

We enjoy anecdotes like Chef Boyardee being a wartime favorite since WWII, Peeps being "born" in 1953, Twinkies having legendary indestructible qualities and Hawaii being the number one Spam-loving state. These products are so good that health concerns are outweighed by nostalgic, comfort-food feelings that take us back to childhood. That's brand equity.

So, give yourself a break. Have a Peep. A Twinkie. A Spam sandwich. Or some Cheese Whiz. I take mine heated, with corn chips on the side. Whichever one you decide to indulge in, you know you'll enjoy it. And you can spend a few extra minutes at the gym tomorrow.

Just don't do all of them on the same day. Or even the same month. I think there's a 100 percent chance that every artery in your body would be irreversibly clogged forever if you indulge in too many of these evil pleasures over too short a time.

Or maybe not. I ate every one one of them all the time as a kid. And I was as skinny as a rail. My waistline started getting bigger after I quit eating all those things regularly.

Hmmm. I think I've found a great rationalization for a Spam, Cheese Whiz & Twinkie party. Want to join me?