We’re supposed to be eating green.
Farm to table.
Cloth bags; no plastic.
Organic all the time.
Less meat; more veggies.
Blah, blah, blah.
We’re also living in the midst of the YOLO thing. (“You Only Live Once.”)
[I’m pausing for your applause.]
Crack. It’s like crack. Or, it’s like what I assume crack to be.
I made the mistake of going to Walmart in Cabo, distributor of all things terrible, and I bought this.
And it was incredible.
It had a hold on me.
When the level of cheese had fallen below the point of allowance for a clean chip dip, I pressed on until my knuckles were covered in cheese. (Classy.) Then when I realized that I was WASTING some of it I proceeded to introduce a mini spatula and I scraped the jar until it was crystal clear.
And my pants are tighter (so I’m wearing a dress today) and I’m not exactly sure what it was made of. “Real cheese”? Yeah. Right.
And I’m pretty certain it wasn’t organic.
And I know that “food” is not supposed to make you happy…
But I’m happier. I swear it.