Letters from Home

Damn, the Cheeto

I really love Cheetos.

That dusty, cheesy goodness reminds me of… well it doesn’t remind me of anything.

Other than MORE Cheetos. The puffy ones are particularly good.

Remember when “baked” became all the rage in snack food. I remember that. I remember when Kentucky FRIED Chicken morphed into KFC… now they even had KBC on their buckets. Which makes we want to cry.

The whole BAKED concept of snack food just seemed like a way to lure the potheads to their product. Like if they just followed the word “baked” on the package with a “?” they would be all set.

I gave up snacks for Lent. Can you tell?

This is another extremely deep post as part of the BIG QUESTION series “What is eating you?”

3 thoughts on “Damn, the Cheeto

  1. Cheetos. They’re one of guilty-but-fun pleasures.

    But if you took all the pleasure out of life, not much would be left. I once heard, “Anything fun is dangerous.” I’d add, “Anything good is costly.”

    (Too much philosophizing this early in the morning.)

    p.s. I like the crunchy ones as much as the puff ones. And I avoid baked potato chips like the plague.

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