Chip Revue: an old fave

Enter JAW Fan:
Well, I knew it would happen...and it did. Yesterday, feeling a little depressed, I fell off the wagon and onto a tin of Pringles. Unfortunately, they were not some new, exciting, double-combo spiced-up flavour...just plain ol' regular ketchup Pringles. That, however, I blame on the small ignoramus Familiprix drugstore near my house, which obviously does not find it important to stack their shelving with an array of potato pleasures. Granted, I did not enter the establishment in quest of chips (deodorant was on sale and I was running low on toothpaste)...so, I should not really hold the pharmacy in contempt.

But then, after going home and pulling back that seal of freshness, I quickly realized that sometimes it is the simple things in life that bring the greatest pleasure...you know, like a beautiful sunset, a playful puppy, a young Siegfried Jerusalem knocking at your bedroom window with a hot new libretto and a jar of jolly jelly...or in this instance, a tin of ketchup chips. And how delicious they were. Was it because I had been on a chip hiatus that these little round buggers tasted so great? Or are these really just a f * *king fine chip? ...not to mention, ketchup equals tomatoes, which equals lycopene...delicious and a healthy choice to boot. Can one really ask for more in a chip? Oh sure, they would have been more delicious, had they been spread across Daniel Craig's naked torso or served to me individually by a bear-like bare-assed Alec Baldwin...or even by one of the Howells at a fancy-schmancy tennis party...but, alas, only in my Vicodin-induced dreams am I able to experience such bodacious bliss.

On the wang-o-meter, (like most Pringles) these chips rate a reliable and dependable 7.5 inches. Sure, they may not be the erotic hump heroes at a Caligula orgy, but like a good bedroom buddy, they're there to deliver pleasure when you need it most. So, thank you, Mr. Pringles. Your peter might not be the biggest...but it gets the job done.