A Review of These Fancy Cheese Crunchies

Many years ago (2014!!) I wrote a review of some shitty cheetos on my wordpress. My chief complaints were that the cheetos tasted like shit and weren’t really healthy for me anyway despite false advertising claims. Although, upon reflection and with hindsight, perhaps I wasn’t really at war with my disappointing snack purchase, but with myself. Oh, how I longed to have my cheetos and eat them too! I wanted a deal where I would make no compromises, to have all the success of healthy snacking with none of the thought or consideration that goes into building such a lifestyle. I wanted convenience, but when I bought it at the supermarket I found convenience to be lacking and smacking of chalk dust. I would just be better off, I concluded, by sticking to my poisonous bad habits and at least being honest with myself about it.

Eight years later, I have discovered a revelation in these fancy cheese crunchies I recently purchased from Trader Joe’s. With genuine truffle flavor, these crunchies are indeed very fancy. I would be so bold as to claim they taste even better than regular cheetos. (I wouldn’t, however, try to champion these fancy cheese crunchies over flaming hot cheetos. The two are too different, like apples and oranges, offering completely different snack experiences.) These fancy cheese crunchies simply work for me and who I have become as a person, on a level so organic and profound that I might even go so far as to call it love. I am not alone in these passions, either. The girl who checked me out today from Trader Joe’s told me she’s eaten at least four bags of these, and I have to agree.

Maybe I wasn’t wrong, so long ago, when I let myself dream that it was possible to have it all, both the reassurances of good health with the comforts of corn-products. Perhaps in 2014 I was just ahead of my time, grasping for answers that had not yet been invented. Then on the other hand, maybe in 2014 I wasn’t ready for fancy cheese crunchies. My tastes back then might not have been refined enough to appreciate how important eating truffle-flavored things can make you feel. I also wasn’t even shopping at Trader Joe’s in those days. I’d go to Vons. How was I supposed to find what I was looking for in a Von’s?

As far as health goes? Turns out good health is some kind of a personal mind-set that has to do with listening to your body- it’s needs, desires, nuances, yearnings, limits, and potential. Good health, in my view, isn’t about to cheeto or not to cheeto. It isn’t something made of absolutes and rules. Perhaps good health is a relationship you have with yourself. It’s learning to really love yourself and in the process probably learning that you also love a plant-based diet and kombucha so you don’t even want diet coke anymore… and then maybe also falling in love with some fancy cheese crunchies, everything you ever wanted in a snack but didn’t know existed until you found them.

So far you seem like the coolest guy on here

For real tho

I am 100% qualified to be paid shit tons of money to make a fool of myself publicly. Seth Rogen wishes he were this talented.

Twin Peaks: Alternate Ending

I watched and loved “Twin Peaks” in 2018, but I read spoilers whenever I watch scary shows so I can brace myself. I decided I hated the way “Twin Peaks” was going to end so I stopped watching before the last two episodes (of the original Season 2) and wrote my own, better ending!

Okay well since I’ve made some weird decision to not watch the last two episodes of Twin Peaks because I highly suspect I’ll be disappointed I am going to take the liberty of writing out a way I’d prefer things to happen.

Okay so where I’m at like Windom Earle just killed some random dude who was a pawn and was like, “next time it will be someone you know” and he clearly has plans to kill the queen aka the girl who wins Miss Twin Peaks and it’s also pretty clear that it’s going to be Annie because Cooper is head over heels in love with her (and it’s super cute) and so he’s going to have to go rescue her from Windom Earle.

But I hate all of that and tbh isn’t it ultimately super cliched even though it’s a weird supernatural horror crime drama?

So this is what I’m proposing instead.

For once, Cooper does his damn job and gets ahead of Windom Earle. He knows that Windom Earle is hanging onto Leo so they kind of set up Windom Earle. And they do it in a super risky way, but who cares it builds suspense. So Cooper stops taking his chess advice from Pete, and he makes this really bold move in the paper that Windom isn’t expecting but at this point Windom has gone so batshit crazy that he’s just like, kind of not thinking logically anymore. Like sure, sure, Windom is a “genius” but he’s also psychotic and wants to murder people and Cooper has basically set up Windom to kill the person he knows so he’s like, “go ahead and do your worst” but maybe doesn’t say that outright.

So the person who is the bait is Harry which is SUPER scary for all of us as viewers because we’re like, “oh shit is Windom going to kill Harry!?” but like of course our heroes are now finally three steps ahead of the game.

And how are they three steps ahead of the game, you might ask?

Well Cooper and Annie are super in love and they bone and it sends them directly to The White Lodge because they are in such true love that them consummating their love opens some kind of portal. There is of course a white flash.

While they are in the White Lodge they obviously learn about the power of love, and maybe an OWL is like, “hey um, look, I’ve been really unfairly demonized during this whole show. The owls are not what they seem because we’ve been made to seem EVIL but actually we’re super chill and cute. Well, okay so we eat big rats at night and are kind of associated with the dark arts sometimes, but also we’re symbols of wisdom and truth and the rodent population really would be out of control without us so I’m just saying.”

And Annie is like, “Um, what?”

Just kidding. This is not what the dialogue would be. The owls in Twin Peaks would obviously speak much more pretentiously in such an over-the-top formal way that I would love it and it would make me laugh a lot but I am not yet fluent in Lynchian dialogue. The owls would still say something like, “You are not what you seem.”

and Cooper would be like, “wait! Tell me more!”

And then the owl would say, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return.” and the owl would be played by John Leguizamo in an owl suit.

Um whatever I have no idea what would happen at the White Lodge to be honest, this is a first draft of this ending pitch, but basically whatever happened at the White Lodge would be along the lines of “the greatest power is love” (because Windom Earle went on a really annoying rant about how the Black Lodge had a lot of power and I think that our culture has a really stupid, annoying, patriarchal white supremacist understanding of power and so in this ending we’re not going for that angle).

Also Cooper is probably like, “yeah I know” because he’s a Tibetan Buddhist after all.

So Cooper leaves the White Lodge kind of feeling like he’s leaving not knowing anything he didn’t already know and he’s kind of disappointed, and Annie is just sort of wigged out a little but also sort of amazed and generally just processing.

But both Cooper and Annie leave (with their White Lodge tattoos) and they also start to realize that they both “know” certain things without knowing how they know. It’s like they have x-ray vision, or like they can read spoilers on the Internet, or like the premise that was set up was so fucking obvious that anyone could see it a million miles away and so they’re like, “maybe these aren’t magic gifts from the White Lodge, maybe this was all just obvious.”

So Annie knows she’s being set up to be murdered at the Miss Twin Peaks thing.

So Cooper just “knows” that Windom Earle will take his Harry bait and that they can trick Windom Earle.

And Cooper keeps saying to himself, “I am not what I seem… I am not what I seem” because that’s what the owl told him. And then he suddenly realizes that he’s totally cool with dying kind of like how Buffy was totally cool with dying at the end of Season 5 and so he’s going to potentially sacrifice himself.

So Windom Earle is after Harry but when he “catches up” with Harry (who is the Knight in the chess version of the murder games if you’re playing along at home) he finds out that he’s really being confronted with Cooper.

So Windom Earle is all confused because he wasn’t expecting Cooper and Cooper is like, “well what’s it going to be Windom?” and Cooper is like, “he might kill me but if he does it’s going to be okay because the game will be over because he’ll have defeated the King.”

Windom doesn’t kill him because he’s just pissed off that Cooper keeps breaking the rules and then Cooper is like, “well you broke the rules too dude and also there’s a double standard in this game because I don’t kill someone every time I take one of YOUR pieces so all the murder is really one-sided like don’t I get something for my moves?”

He obviously doesn’t say that, but maybe he’s thinking it.

So Windom Earle and Cooper both part ways and Windom is like, “well I’ll see you at Miss Twin Peaks, won’t I?”

and Windom kind of like, doesn’t really have an advantage anymore and they aren’t even really playing a version of chess anymore, and that’s partly how Cooper got ahead of him was by transcending the set-up of the game and CREATING HIS OWN VERSION OF THE GAME *ahem*

So then at Miss Twin Peaks everyone is like a little on edge because they’re like, “who is going to get murdered tonight?”

Ben Horne hosts and he is fucking HILARIOUS as he goes on and on and on about a woman’s virtues like her intelligence and empathy for small forest animals like the endangered pine weasel.

The girls all give a speech about saving the forest.

Shelly acts confused and is like, “trees are good.”

Donna is super fucking pretentious and annoying and is like, “The deciduous forests are part of the life cycle that connects us all.”

Lana just like, licks her lips for that old dude.

Audrey doesn’t participate because she’s too busy running her loser dad’s business.

And Annie gives an eloquent and thoughtful speech from the heart so obviously she wins.

But then right at that moment Windom Earle comes out guns ablazing and shooting, but an owl swoops into his face and distracts him and so he doesn’t shoot Annie… he shoots… MIKE!!!!

And Mike is hit and he goes down and he’s like, toast.

I mean there have to be some deaths, this is the season finale and the big climax.

And you know who’s super fucking pissed, don’t you?

NADINE.

So then Nadine LOSES IT and she GOES for Windom Earle and like, honestly beats him to a pulp. It’s really bloody. Like worse than any of the violence we’ve seen up to that point. It’s almost like a Quentin Tarantino movie, especially since she already has an eyepatch.

So Windom is dead.

And then Nadine gets up and brushes herself off, and she runs over to Mike and is sobbing. Aw, it’s sad.

She looks around the room and runs off into the woods. There’s another white flash. We assume she’s been taken to the White Lodge.

Ed and Norma get married finally and Hank is locked up for good.

I don’t know how to wrap up the Donna’s mom and Ben Horne thing honestly and it was a stupid subplot to begin with, and I don’t like the idea of Eileen (as I googled her name) cheating on Doc Hayward. I dunno whatever maybe she and the doc change their Facebook status to “it’s complicated”

Catherine DEFINITELY lives happily ever after and gets to develop Ghostwood because as a conniving woman who put up with a bunch of dudes’ bullshit she deserves it.

Ben continues to be a sleazy, gross, disgusting goof who is compensating constantly and as Catherine develops Ghostwood he falls deeper into environmental activism until he becomes so immersed he actually starts to believe his own bullshit.

Um… James realizes he’s gay and stays in San Francisco in the castro district.

Donna Hayward goes to Bennington in Vermont and is super fucking annoying and writes bad poetry.

Audrey becomes a very successful business woman and restores and keeps the Great Northern going after her dad falls off the sanity wagon. She dates that dude who’s really into her but she’s not as into him and is more into her career but likes having a steady boyfriend who is in love with her.

Annie and Cooper get married, awww. Harry is his best man obviously and Andy, Hawk, and Albert are all groomsmen.

And there’s definitely NO Showtime revival with Amanda Seyfried and evil Dale Cooper and Dale Cooper never raped Diane or anything like that and we don’t go down that fucking rabbit hole because it’s too dark of a turn for this show when the show’s merits in the first place were moments like Albert saying his concerns were global and that he was a naysayer and hatchet-man in the fight against violence and when Dale Cooper said he was talking about viewing the world through love.

Animal Sacrifice

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this lately, but I am going to grad school at USC’s School of Cinematic Arts which, in case you’ve been living under a rock, IS THE BEST FILM SCHOOL IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. This article claims they are “molding the entertainment industry’s next generation of geniuses,” and clearly at least one of those geniuses is me.

I know they say a magician should never reveal her secrets, but I would be remiss to not speak to the underbelly reality of attending the best film school in the world. Classism runs rampant and I wouldn’t be the beloved, acclaimed genius that I am if I wasn’t really just trying to dismantle the system within the system. The truth is all that really matters in the end, and the truth is I’m pretty sure on some level my school is a Satanic cult. (Not to be confused with The Satanic Temple, of which my good friend is the High Priestess.)

What evidence do I have for my theory? For one, the first year of film school was straight up hazing. I have a whole story about almost dying on the way to deliver a box to Joshua Tree, which I could tell at a later date.

“But all schools, including law schools and medical schools have some kind of hazing process,” you might say, and I agree. Those are probably Satanic cults too.

But I can’t speak to other organizations. I can only tell you that at the beginning of every semester of school I have been forced to offer a literal animal sacrifice to the film gods.

On the first day of school, in August of 2018, I was driving on the freeway to school and somewhat dreading it. The sky was dark and gloomy, like a storm was on the horizon, and it really was. A flock of black birds (crows? I don’t know what they were) were circling overhead like an ominous cliche. I was driving down the famed “La La Land Overpass” when one of those black birds nose-dived DIRECTLY into my window. Since I was in the overpass with one lane it wasn’t like I could swerve out of it’s way.

I screamed, and the bird was pancaked against windshield like the “Death” tarot card from the Wild Unknown deck.

Yikes

It slid off my windshield and a little bit of bird pus and feathers remained. I was understandably freaked out and tried to wipe them off. In my fifteen year career of driving around Los Angeles nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I had also recently listened to a paranormal podcast that said birds flying into windshields was some kind of freaky omen. I tried to let this go and eventually succeeded in moving on.

Until that is, on the first day of the second semester, I was driving with my grad school friend in my car to a comedy show to meet an actor we both wanted to cast in our films. On the way there, a possum quickly crossed my path. I slammed on the breaks, but was too late. I definitely rolled over that possum. Before this I had never hit an animal with my car. Well, I mean other than the bird… and some flies obviously.

My friend knew about my dead bird from the first semester and remarked that the possum couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was an animal sacrifice.

This year, as I was returning to school and the first day passed with no significant animal deaths, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then it quickly dawned on me that I had already hand delivered my animal sacrifice earlier that week with the death of that cute baby squirrel.

I have no idea what these animal sacrifices are really for, or why I seem unable to avoid fulfilling these grim rituals. And although I am clearly in this Satanic cult and am aware that there must be some paranormal shit going on, I don’t have all the answers yet and can’t confirm that they are actually connected to the Illuminati or that the Illuminati even exists. But I think something is up, and the truth must be out there. I’ll keep you posted.

Circle of Life

I didn’t expect to euthanize a baby squirrel when I woke up this morning, but then I guess life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

I was walking Rita when she started sniffing pretty aggressively in a certain direction, which was when I saw it. A cute little baby squirrel that was sadly lying in the middle of the sidewalk on its side. I couldn’t tell if it was alive or not, so moved a little closer to see that it was gasping for little breaths of air.

“Oh no! One of God’s creatures!” I thought to myself.

The emergency mode in my mind turns on. I think about calling 911 for a split second, but I know this isn’t exactly a 911 situation, even though I did want someone to come save this little baby squirrel as quickly as possible.

“Sorry Rita, I have to cut your walk short.”

I took her back into the house and got on the phone with animal control. Every second that went by felt like a second too long, was that squirrel even still alive? Animal control felt like a dubious option, because they had been literally no help when I saw a dog on the loose running across a major street. They kept transferring me and telling me it was someone else’s problem to deal with. It’s literally everyone’s problem if someone runs over that dog and it causes a huge accident!!!

…But that’s in the past. In the present it’s a baby squirrel that’s dying in the middle of the sidewalk. Animal control tells me they’ll send someone by, ask for the address, then insist it’s someone else’s jurisdiction, so I give up on that.

“If only I could get it to an emergency care…”

I realize I can, and that this has become all my responsibility. I call the nearby vet and ask them if they’ll help the squirrel. They say yes. I rummage under the sink for rubber gloves, pull the shoe box from my recent “new sneakers with butterflies” purchase, and line the shoebox with paper towels. Then I go outside and put the cute little baby squirrel in the shoebox wearing my rubber gloves because my mom is always saying how my love of rodent related creatures is bad because they supposedly carry disease and plague. Whatever, they are so cute and silly.

The baby squirrel is limp in my hand but still alive. It squeaks!!! Oh my god it’s adorable.

“It’s okay baby, I’m going to save you.”

I put it gently in the box and close the lid. I hope it’s okay.

On the drive over I fantasize about the vet saving the little squirrel and asking me to nurse it back to health. I realize I’d have to get some kind of terrarium and food for it from petco which will add up in price. I also wonder if the vet is going to charge me for rescuing the baby squirrel and giving it rabies shots. I don’t really have enough money for a pet squirrel right now, even though I want one… and it doesn’t really strike me as ethical to have a pet squirrel, so I’d probably have to release it into the wild.

It squeaks every so often, and it’s squeaks are sooo cute.

I get to the vet, and am greeted by a nurse. For some reason I hear the phrase, “I just thought, even if it needs to be put down, that would be the compassionate thing to do” come out of my mouth.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it,” she says.

“Do I need to like, come back or anything?” I ask. You know, to nurse it back to health after it’s been saved from the brink of death and has little casts on it’s legs and keep it as kind of a pet?

“No you’re good, thank you,” she says.

Back in the car I wonder why I suggested they put the squirrel down as an option. That wasn’t really what I hoped they would do, and maybe I put the idea in their head that they could just kill the squirrel. But the more I think about it the more I realize how obvious it was that there was never any other solution to the problem.

“Where is this squirrels parents!?!,” I wonder. So negligent. How could they let this happen?

I shed a few tears for the squirrel’s inevitable end as I come to grips with the fact that literally the only thing I could have done in this situation was what I had already done, that death is sort of a daily part of life, and sometimes in fact the kindest answer.

Coincidentally, I was on my way to therapy when all of this happened, so I tell my therapist about the squirrel situation.

“I mean, I’m just mentioning it because it just happened in the past two hours,” I say.

“You euthanized a squirrel!” he confirms.

It turns out euthanasia smells like rubber gloves. On the way back home I run some errands to get hand sanitizer to wipe my car steering wheel where the rubber gloves touched, as well as my hands. The smell is sticking on me like grime that won’t wash off. Fuck.

I get home to walk Rita. She points at her leash with her nose because she’s like, “come on bitch you cut my earlier walk short I want to go out.”

Then I see it, in the same area I saw the baby squirrel earlier. This is either the same, or another baby squirrel, except this time it’s totally dead and lying on a paper towel.

I’m confused. Is this the same baby squirrel I tried but failed to rescue earlier? It is on a paper towel, much like the baby squirrel I put on a paper towel earlier. Did the vet drive around to my neighborhood after it euthanized the squirrel to return it? This seems unlikely. Or is this a second, dead, baby squirrel? Are the fucking crows in the neighborhood up to some murderous shit?! Did they knock down some baby squirrel nests?? Do baby squirrels even have nests?

Now I wonder if it has become my responsibility to give this dead baby squirrel a funeral by digging a hole in the ground, to return it to the earth in a spiritual circle of life ceremony so that it’s spirit can go on to reincarnate as like, a raccoon. I’m not sure though. I’ve already gone through a lot of hand sanitizer and rubber gloves as it is and maybe I have inadvertently gotten more involved with death for one day than I was ready for.

It’s kind of like that book, “If you give a mouse a cookie” except in my case it’s “If you euthanize a squirrel, then you’ll have to give it a funeral.”

Eat, Pray, Love 2

To be honest, I’ve wanted to write a memoir-y book for a while now, but I think I’ve finally lived enough life to do it!

My prior attempts to write such a book were titled, “Eat, Pray, Love 2.” Here’s something I wrote in 2016, please enjoy my witticisms from these earlier efforts:

Preface

It dawned on me one evening, while talking about my favorite subject — myself — with my good friend Gillian that I am the worst of all the cliches and stereotypes of a specific kind of person everyone loves to hate. I am a dissatisfied, well-off, blonde white millennial who went to the Harvard of feminism (Vassar), a private liberal arts college on the East Coast. I’m from Los Angeles and pursuing a career as a famous person in Hollywood in order to fill the existential, gaping hole inside, and as such I do a lot of online self-promotion for various web-series I have created, written, and starred in. Some of my other crimes in this vein include:

— I do yoga.

— I frequently spend $5 on kombucha even though I have no discernible income – I once made a gofundme that no one contributed to in order to afford said kombucha

— I have given up the pursuit of a “real job” in favor of living in my grandma’s spare art-room so that I can focus on my “craft” aka write this book about me

— I attempt to meditate (sit in a hot tub and listen to music)

— Etc. etc.

However, this is also not really a story about a girl becoming a successful, famous comedian. At the end of it all maybe it’s the story of a girl who worshiped celebrity and thought she was all about that life — only to discover that the meaning of life is something more like that scene in American Beauty with the bag swirling around in the wind kind of shit.

Now, I’d like to answer some imagined frequently asked questions (AKA iFAQs) about this book:

Is This a Sequel to “Eat, Pray, Love”?

Not exactly. It’s more like a non-canon reboot. Eat, Pray, Love #1 was about a woman named Elizabeth Gilbert, and her personal spiritual journey that involved eating, praying, and loving. “Eat, Pray, Love 2”, is at its heart, a very similar story. It is also about the personal spiritual journey of a young blonde upper middle-class white woman from America who has all the advantages one could possibly want in life – and yet has still managed to find it all anxiety inducing and problematic. Especially, because, like any self-respecting young woman who is intelligent and career-minded – all she really wants is love. Hence the need for a spiritual journey.

So, “Eat, Pray, Love 2” has nothing to do with Elizabeth Gilbert? What about the eating and praying?

Oh, no. Not really. The spoiled blonde white girl searching for the answers to the mysteries of the Universe slash a nice boyfriend is named Jessica Cabot. She is me. I will say that I, Jessica Cabot, do have a lot in common with Elizabeth Gilbert from what I can tell. Like Elizabeth Gilbert, I am also a writer, except funnier because I write in sardonic tones. I am also spiritually minded and interested in figuring my shit out by having deeply significant spiritual journeys. I also have a tough time with love. Most significantly, I share my sun sign in Cancer and my Venus in Gemini in common with Liz.

Oh God. Why does the world need to hear another version of this story? Haven’t we suffered enough?

First of all, whoever is asking these imagined FAQs needs to get a reality check. No one suffered at the hands of Eat, Pray, Love. It is a goddamn bestseller for a reason. Elizabeth Gilbert warmed my soul with her honesty, vulnerability, and personal growth from eating spaghetti in Italy and scrubbing floors in India. There are obviously lots of other Elizabeth Gilbert-types out there in the world — #blessed, yet sad and looking for answers. Plus, the world loves updates of timeless classics. I hope you’ll come to think of me as the millennial Elizabeth Gilbert.

You’re an annoying Amy Schumer wannabe, go die.

Oh my god, thank you! I love Amy too. To be a second-rate version of her is a dream come true.

Are you going to tell a story about touching your sister like in that other bitch’s memoir? I need something to feel outraged about.

Oh, no. I didn’t read Lena Dunham’s book, to be honest, but funny you should mention her!

Did you know that professionally and personally Lisa Kudrow of all people said that I am like Lena Dunham but funnier and less depressing?! Did you notice how those names that I said are of famous funny women who have done really notable work in the field that I am also interested in doing notable work in? Does the comparison make you like me more and think I am worthy of love, respect, and a really cool job?! Gosh I hope so.

I’ve always followed up this *true* endorsement with “I’ll have to put that on my tombstone.” Someone once recommended that I put this phrase on my tombstone and I thought that was a great, clever, funny idea.

“Hi! Nice to meet you. Lisa Kudrow said I’m like Lena Dunham but FUNNIER AND LESS DEPRESSING!!! I know, I know, it’s a strong endorsement from a powerful woman I admire. I’ll have to put that on my tombstone.”

The other person then thinks, “Hm, this Jessica Cabot girl is really leaving a good impression on me. I get the sense that she is well-connected and destined for success of her own. This really makes me want to give her a job and/or love her like no man has ever loved her in her entire life [depending on the circumstances of our meeting]. The fact that she casually mentioned her own death in connection to this high compliment from Lisa Kudrow makes me think that she is both quirky and morbid. Super authentic.”

Unsubscribed.

Oh, alright. It was fun while it lasted.

Happy Dark Thoughts

Welcome back to this blog, which I’ve had since 2009! I have protected myself from most of my previous work by making much of the earlier content private. Turns out in my early 20s I had a lot of internalized misogyny, yikes! However, there are a few gems in my catalogue which I’ve saved for the world’s viewing and reading pleasure (please see below).

I feel that I’m in a new cycle of my life, one which is asking me to resurrect this blog so that I might sometime in the near-ish future manifest a book deal. And yes, someone might accurately point out to me that no one reads my wordpress, and that putting any content here is the equivalent of sending letters into a void.

But one time I did have a career success come of this blog, even though I assumed at the time no one was reading. The assuming no one is reading is in fact what makes me comfortable writing anything at all. But anyway that overly honest blog post turned into a web-series starring Sandra Oh! So maybe there is a point to all of this–

On the set of that web-series Lisa Kudrow pitched the name “Happy Dark Thoughts” for a blog that the character (based on me, obviously) might have. Well, now that blog is happening. And what an amazing blog it is.

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A Review Of These Shitty Cheetos®

It has come to my attention that I am now an “adult”, and as such it seems one of my responsibilities is to feed myself. This has proven to be a considerable challenge over the past few years, and so as of late I have taken it upon myself to improve my efforts and visit the “grocery store” (if you will).

I’ve performed a number of experiments in this vein, and being an intelligent young woman I have concluded that it is no longer a conducive choice to purchase bags of kale. As it turns out, I don’t really eat the kale.

However, because I theoretically value my health, it is important to me to make decisions that cater to my long term well being*. This is indeed why I got this stupid shitty bag of Cheetos®.

These particular Cheetos® suck. This bag was full of false promises. First, I was under the impression that the “puffs” aspect would provide a lighter snacking experience to again, ensure my health*. In retrospect, and after having consumed the Cheetos® first hand, I’m not so sure that this is actually the case. I was also drawn in by the word “simply”, inferring that the Cheetos® would be a fairly organic snack. Again, in hindsight, I guess they aren’t because they’re still Cheetos®. The “white cheddar” label, to me, also implied that I would be taking care of my health* by sticking to all-natural cheese flavorings. Upon opening the bag, I think they would have been more appropriately labeled “white chalk”.

Basically, they tasted like shit. The puffs part of it made it gross, the white cheddar part was also gross, and, to top it all off, after some careful analysis, I realized the health* aspect of this snack was all in the marketing and not a reflection of the actual product.

Will I be purchasing these Cheetos® again? No. Do I recommend these Cheetos® to anyone else? No. If you’re going to eat Cheetos® should you just go for the real deal, only slightly worse for you, toxic bright orange colored ones that are still shit but at least taste pretty decent when accompanied with a poisonous beverage like Diet Coke®? Yeah, probably.

*low calorie count to stay kind of skinny