Look, stop trying to bamboozle me, parmesan garlic popcorn. You inside your violet-colored bag, resting on that top shelf. Top shelf popcorn, you're goddamned right. And you probably deserve it too. I bet you're tasty as hell. I would undoubtedly eat all of you in one sitting, that empty bag collecting dust and dog hairs on the cushion next to mine for the next couple hours. Just inhale all of you, no regrets. All those tiny kernel bits caught in my teeth would totally be worth it. And if you weren't almost four dollars for a bag that's twenty-five percent air, I'd totally buy you - and a few of your friends behind you for that matter.
There's something about a bag of snacks costing more than this price point that turns me off from them. For some reason, I set the bar at four bucks. Even when alleged deals are on the table, I'll scoff at the bargain. Two for eight bucks? Hell no. How about two for seven? Still seems excessive. Two for four? Now we're in my ballpark. I haven't had a brand like Ruffles in ages. Ruffles are like the Air Jordans of the chip world - expensive, hardly ever on sale, and on rare occasion they are, it's still overpriced. That said. I often stick to store brands and take the hit on taste sometimes.
Why is my bar set at four dollars? The plight of good snacking is real. Sure, there's fruits and vegetables and obviously way more healthy options. I enjoy some on occasion, really. But it's simply not the same. The poor folks in the gluten free lifestyle have it worse. Seems like they have to pay extra for just about anything, bread, snacks, you name it. I would just stop eating if my snacks were seven bucks a small bag. Pass out in the streets from lack of nutrition.
Another imaginary bar I've set involves certain pieces of clothing. T-shirts, I won't pay more than twenty bucks for one. That's absurd. It's not even twenty dollars worth of material, is it? I might up the ante to twenty-five dollars for shorts, and jeans a little bit more. Dress shirts? Maybe twenty-five as well. I'm a simple man. And maybe cheap, especially when it comes to comfortable every day wear.
But, back to this food ordeal. Specifically that damn bag of garlic parmesan popcorn that keeps staring me in the face every time I venture down the chip aisle at my local grocery store. I'm not going to buy you right now. You see, right now I'm taking the flavor next to you. It doesn't matter what the flavor is, don't worry about it. It's two for four bucks that's all you need to know. Two bags for the price of one of you. Store brand. Go on sale sometime, will you? The anticipation is driving me insane. But with my luck, sooner or later you'll disappear from the shelves, never to return. How very typical of your kind.
There's something about a bag of snacks costing more than this price point that turns me off from them. For some reason, I set the bar at four bucks. Even when alleged deals are on the table, I'll scoff at the bargain. Two for eight bucks? Hell no. How about two for seven? Still seems excessive. Two for four? Now we're in my ballpark. I haven't had a brand like Ruffles in ages. Ruffles are like the Air Jordans of the chip world - expensive, hardly ever on sale, and on rare occasion they are, it's still overpriced. That said. I often stick to store brands and take the hit on taste sometimes.
Why is my bar set at four dollars? The plight of good snacking is real. Sure, there's fruits and vegetables and obviously way more healthy options. I enjoy some on occasion, really. But it's simply not the same. The poor folks in the gluten free lifestyle have it worse. Seems like they have to pay extra for just about anything, bread, snacks, you name it. I would just stop eating if my snacks were seven bucks a small bag. Pass out in the streets from lack of nutrition.
Another imaginary bar I've set involves certain pieces of clothing. T-shirts, I won't pay more than twenty bucks for one. That's absurd. It's not even twenty dollars worth of material, is it? I might up the ante to twenty-five dollars for shorts, and jeans a little bit more. Dress shirts? Maybe twenty-five as well. I'm a simple man. And maybe cheap, especially when it comes to comfortable every day wear.
But, back to this food ordeal. Specifically that damn bag of garlic parmesan popcorn that keeps staring me in the face every time I venture down the chip aisle at my local grocery store. I'm not going to buy you right now. You see, right now I'm taking the flavor next to you. It doesn't matter what the flavor is, don't worry about it. It's two for four bucks that's all you need to know. Two bags for the price of one of you. Store brand. Go on sale sometime, will you? The anticipation is driving me insane. But with my luck, sooner or later you'll disappear from the shelves, never to return. How very typical of your kind.