Tuesday, October 9, 2007

i'm fat because i can relate cheetos to relationships...

Cheetos and I have an ongoing love affair. Because of our secret love I find that I pine for their faux cheesy goodness on lonely Friday nights, making the occasional booty call to my favorite calorie filled snack.
Actually, I would hardly call Cheetos a snack for me. Quite frankly, I attack them with uninhibited animalistic passion, constantly yearning for more than just a convenience store bag. Family size, if you please.
Because Cheetos and I spend so much time together, I shudder to think of what would happen were they not in my life. They are not only a staple of my diet during the loveless days of my existence; they are in and of themselves a boyfriend.
I have many different boyfriends available on the well-stocked shelves of my local supermarket. Some are one time flings, others…I crave. For instance, the limited edition Cheetos that turned my tongue bluer with each bite were not only a one night stand, but one I regret whole heartedly. Then you have the cheese balls, a downright snack food tease. By only supplying itself in tiny yet delicious morsels, I am never quite satisfied and after a while, start to feel like I’m wasting my precious time and should have gone for the one Cheeto that never fails me: the original puff. It is he who is safety, a snack you know will always be there, outside the Quickie Mart, in your grocery store, in the hands of Britney Spears and various road tripping tweens…the puff will never die. With all of its preservatives and artificial ingredients making for a cheesy paradise; but after a while, these too get old. So safe, so finite, so…blah.
So I must move on. And when I do, I find that I rebound with the crunchy cheeto. The skinny one that no one really likes, but it’s been around for a while so they feel bad kicking it to the curb completely. Yes, this Cheeto is the ex that wasn’t man enough for me. I enjoyed it as a naive child, unaware of the glorious opportunities awaiting me if I would only open my eyes and really look for the Cheeto that would take me away form my first love and start me anew with it’s sweet yet salty flavor of love. The skinny Cheeto is the geeky boy I never really had feelings for, but dealt with anyway because I was too stupid to know better.
It was his exotic cousin that would leave a burning sensation on my taste buds. The elusive Fiery Hot Cheeto. It opened my eyes, showed me a world through rose colored glasses and then, in the end, let the slow burn sink in and ultimately leave a bad taste in my mouth. This Cheeto is the bad boy, the one I can’t seem to forget, the one I think about as I stand, tapping my foot, unsure of my Cheeto future. Should I risk the Fiery Hot? Or will he once again, like last time, bring tears to my eyes as I slowly run out of water. I gave that Cheeto everything I had and I tried to hold on, but in the end, I had to let go.
So where does that leave me? The X’s and O’s Cheeto’s that seem alright for a while, delicious like the original puff but a little bit edgy but oftentimes unavailable or the Twisted Cheeto that I see occasionally at parties, we have a drink and a few laughs, I think about how it might be if I take the bowl home with me and let them spend the night; and just as I’m about to leave with my newfound friend with benefits, I remember how large he is…how it hurts me mouth when I try to enjoy him for a long period of time, so I make an excuse and head for the door.
Yes it’s true…Cheetos and I will always be hand in hand, always needing each other, holding on and sharing our hopes and dreams, watching our favorite TV shows and leaving each other for another. They’ll love me til I can’t love anymore…because like love itself: Cheetos just want to give all they have to someone, letting them enjoy the sensation while it lasts, but no one can tie Cheeto down, no one can change him. That’s why at the end of the day, Cheetos will just break your heart and make you fat.

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