It’s nice to see that Munchos are still available at our nation’s supermarkets. Still, the head is scratched. How can a chip product that I, an unabashed devourer of all things potato, haven’t eaten since elementary school possibly survive? (I ate them then the same way I always eat Pringles: stacked three or four high, affixed to the tongue and then melted by saliva into a delicious mash.) At any rate, I’m glad to see this salty curiosity soldier on. It’s similar to why I’m always happy to see a Zagnut; even if it’s no longer on our ever-shortening list of preferred candies, something with that name ought to exist. But do you remember Goo Goo Clusters? Fuck Goo Goo Clusters.


I have let my dishes pile up to the point where I’m going to be forced to spend a half hour washing them, and there is no more mundane chore, even when accompanied, loudly, by Bob Pollard’s “Not in My Airforce.”