Junk Food (Golden Globes Edition)
Chewy Chips Ahoy!
Scarfing down a box of Chewy Chips Ahoy is like turning your back on the purity of nature; it's saying that you've chosen science over religion and that while there may be a theoretical God in a theoretical place called Heaven, you certainly aren't on speaking terms with him and you seem to have lost his address. Why? Because they're so soft. Ridiculously soft; crumbly as Caribbean sand. They're the kind of soft that can only be created in a lab; a Brave New Softness that will one day usurp our national ideas of "what is soft" and install it's dogma as our Document of Rule. There is, however, a flaw. Something for the underground resistance to exploit. The chocolate... you see, it's sub-par. While the softness may drive you mad, you're snapped back to reality by the mealy, too-sweetness of the chocolate chips. They are the chink in the armor in to which we must thrust our sword, freeing us from the Soft Oppression and allowing us to sample other cookies of varying textures and mouth-feels. Perhaps some Oreos.
Nacho Cheese Doritos
They've always been there. When you were a kid, they were on your plate next to the crustless PB&J that your loving Mother made for you after you'd had a hard day on the jungle gym (not a metaphorical jungle gym; the actual jungle gym at the playground). As a teen, when you cried alone in your room on a Saturday night, despondent that you couldn't get a date for the winter formal, or some such, they, along with R.E.M's "Automatic for the People" and some stolen wine coolers, kept you company, wiping your eyes and giving you strength as only a seasoned corn chip can. And when you went off to college, you practically lived on them... you're an adult now and you can eat whatever you goddamn well please. They understanding that soon the day would come when you'd leave your orange-fingered past behind, moving on to a life spent with Salt & Vinegar or, perhaps, simply Original. They were just happy to be with you. Because they know. They know that one day, years later, you'll see them in a deli and think, "Yes... Nacho Cheese Doritos... they're exactly the right size to fill the empty space in my soul. I've missed them and they've missed me." And as you take them to the counter, you'll see, if you're lucky, a single tear fall from the bag. Because they knew you'd come back. They always knew. Because they were always there.
Haagen-Dazs Mint and Dark Chocolate Ice Cream Bar
The combination of mint and chocolate is to the casual snacker like that first sip of fine whiskey to a burgeoning drunk. Intoxicating, heady, a door kicked down that revels the world for what it really is: A pleasure garden for the debauched and indulgent, should that be the path you're inclined to take. To take these flavors... the cool, brainy mint and the slutty, rich chocolate... and wrap them around a pillow of decadent ice cream is an outrage; an excess of sin tantamount to an orgy in an opium den after a dinner of foie gras and truffles. Sure, adults will know better than to tempt themselves with such immoral confections, but what of the children? The idea of mint and chocolate and ice cream will seem like the perfect thrill, blissfully unaware, them, of the moral corruption that unquestionably lay before them. And they sell these openly! In supermarkets and convenience stores! They should be behind the counter, under lock and key, the shopkeep requiring an ID before a purchase can be made. But people will never learn. Not until it's too late. Not until little Jimmy or precious Susie start experimenting with caramel or strawberry filling or, God forbid, a thick layer of Chocolate Ganache. Only then will our folly be brought into the light. And we'll curse the Haagen-Dazs name as we weep bitter tears for our country's lost youth.
Scarfing down a box of Chewy Chips Ahoy is like turning your back on the purity of nature; it's saying that you've chosen science over religion and that while there may be a theoretical God in a theoretical place called Heaven, you certainly aren't on speaking terms with him and you seem to have lost his address. Why? Because they're so soft. Ridiculously soft; crumbly as Caribbean sand. They're the kind of soft that can only be created in a lab; a Brave New Softness that will one day usurp our national ideas of "what is soft" and install it's dogma as our Document of Rule. There is, however, a flaw. Something for the underground resistance to exploit. The chocolate... you see, it's sub-par. While the softness may drive you mad, you're snapped back to reality by the mealy, too-sweetness of the chocolate chips. They are the chink in the armor in to which we must thrust our sword, freeing us from the Soft Oppression and allowing us to sample other cookies of varying textures and mouth-feels. Perhaps some Oreos.
Nacho Cheese Doritos
They've always been there. When you were a kid, they were on your plate next to the crustless PB&J that your loving Mother made for you after you'd had a hard day on the jungle gym (not a metaphorical jungle gym; the actual jungle gym at the playground). As a teen, when you cried alone in your room on a Saturday night, despondent that you couldn't get a date for the winter formal, or some such, they, along with R.E.M's "Automatic for the People" and some stolen wine coolers, kept you company, wiping your eyes and giving you strength as only a seasoned corn chip can. And when you went off to college, you practically lived on them... you're an adult now and you can eat whatever you goddamn well please. They understanding that soon the day would come when you'd leave your orange-fingered past behind, moving on to a life spent with Salt & Vinegar or, perhaps, simply Original. They were just happy to be with you. Because they know. They know that one day, years later, you'll see them in a deli and think, "Yes... Nacho Cheese Doritos... they're exactly the right size to fill the empty space in my soul. I've missed them and they've missed me." And as you take them to the counter, you'll see, if you're lucky, a single tear fall from the bag. Because they knew you'd come back. They always knew. Because they were always there.
Haagen-Dazs Mint and Dark Chocolate Ice Cream Bar
The combination of mint and chocolate is to the casual snacker like that first sip of fine whiskey to a burgeoning drunk. Intoxicating, heady, a door kicked down that revels the world for what it really is: A pleasure garden for the debauched and indulgent, should that be the path you're inclined to take. To take these flavors... the cool, brainy mint and the slutty, rich chocolate... and wrap them around a pillow of decadent ice cream is an outrage; an excess of sin tantamount to an orgy in an opium den after a dinner of foie gras and truffles. Sure, adults will know better than to tempt themselves with such immoral confections, but what of the children? The idea of mint and chocolate and ice cream will seem like the perfect thrill, blissfully unaware, them, of the moral corruption that unquestionably lay before them. And they sell these openly! In supermarkets and convenience stores! They should be behind the counter, under lock and key, the shopkeep requiring an ID before a purchase can be made. But people will never learn. Not until it's too late. Not until little Jimmy or precious Susie start experimenting with caramel or strawberry filling or, God forbid, a thick layer of Chocolate Ganache. Only then will our folly be brought into the light. And we'll curse the Haagen-Dazs name as we weep bitter tears for our country's lost youth.
posted by Clinton at 8:14 AM
6 Comments:
Did you see that new Chips Ahoy commercial where four cookies are singing and driving in a red convertable?
Best commercial in the past few years to hit the air.
Yeah, I saw that last night actually, while I was eating Chips Ahoy. I felt guilty about eating them when they were so clearly enjoying their car ride but... well... what else am I going to eat with my whis- um... milk. My milk.
Re: Doritos - that was the most touching ode to a snack food that I've ever read. That was... beautiful, man... *sniffle*
I was always more of a Cool Ranch fan, myself. But any Doritos is good Doritos.
I love those driving cookies! It is the best commercial to come out in a long time!
we can not deny that junk food can be delicious and catch our attention specially when we go out with some relatives or friends. But the junk food can be harmful for our welfare or health, resulting in a obesity or even affecting our sexual development. So the relation ships are affected too. We need to change eating habits,start exercising frequently and if you have erectil dysfunctions the better alternative could be buy viagra. But the most important thing is take care our health.
haha tha golden editons are the same always, I remember once than once I find a bottle of viagra online inside a doritos bag.. :S for me that was really weird, i just though... Why?
Thanks for sharing.
Post a Comment
<< Home