Mistakenly, I purchased a rather large sized bag of puffy Cheetos twists, far superior to their straight counterpart in my opinion, for a sweet 16 party. (The large bag was warranted, there were seven girls.) I may have had one or seven of those tasty twisters, and ever since the only food that has been on my brain (except for chimichangas, which lets get real, can't really be surpassed by much. except for maybe a fairytale brownie sunday...) is puffy Cheetos. Even the straight ones. Clayton literally had to pull me away from a display of Cheeto sale items set up seemingly to tempt my weakness for junk food last week on a beer run.
Note to self: Last sentence may contradict itself....
Anyway, since last Thursday I have been dodging the bags of orange goodness. Lord knows I would open a bag to have "a couple" and the entire contents would be finished in under an hour. Despite my futile attempts to replace the cheesy snack with popchips I still find myself day dreaming about consuming handfuls of Cheetos and then riding off on the back of Chester Cheeto's motorbike (I know he isn't technically featured with a motorbike on the packaging, but those sunglasses give it all away) and into a smoky orange sky.
But today my friends, is a day of weakness. For fear of my job, health, and general safety of others I have every intention of marching into the grocery store and stopping only until the largest bag of Cheeto twisters is safe within my death grip. Maybe then the weird dreams will stop...
i hope you are this passionate about food.
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