Posts Tagged ‘Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Puffs’

Dear Boys of Mine (all three),

Thank you for making this Mother’s Day the best ever. For real.

You know last year I wasn’t happy at all. It was not because you didn’t do the “right” thing. It was because you didn’t do anything on the day at all.

But this year, you made it right, and then some.

First, breakfast in bed with a side of “Hoarders” on the TV (you know how I feel about that show).

Then a treasure hunt with gifts, including my new food obsession: Flamin’ hot popcorn. (No surprise there, I’m sure.)

The hunt culminated in a homemade movie that made me cry. Twice.

Finally? Lunch based on a tomato soup commercial I saw yesterday. (You know the one: It features grilled cheese.)

So thank you for making me feel loved.

I love you too.

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Dear Mr. Trump:

I have not been in the basket for you. In fact, Eddie is a well-known bad hombre, and I’ve been a pretty nasty woman.

But thanks to all my uber-conservative friends on Facebook, I’ve seen the light (because that’s how things work on social media, right?!).

Clearly I was wrong about you. This whole time, I thought that your slogan “Make America Great Again” meant that you wanted to return America to a better time for white men — you know, when women and black people “knew their place.”

But, of course you can’t mean that. Here’s what I think you must mean, as this is what “Making America Great Again” means to me:

  1. Music on MTV (which stands for — get this — “Music Television“).
  2. Must See TV Thursday night line-up.
  3. Three-martini lunches (gone before I started working, but they seem like a great idea).
  4. Abundant fireflies.
  5. A dinner where no one checks his/her phone.
  6. AP style used “more than” for amount and did not allow “hopefully” to mean “it is hoped.”
  7. No texted weiner pics.
  8. The toughest tech to figure out was how to hit play/record at the moment when the DJ stopped talking.
  9. The iPhone had a built-in headphone jack.
  10. You weren’t in politics.

Sorry. That last one slipped in there. I guess I can’t even pretend. I tried.

I’ll be making America great STILL* with my vote today. I hope I’m in the majority.

And I hope this will be you tonight:

A flamin' hot Cheeto

A flamin’ hot, angry Cheeto

Please go away.


*even better, actually

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Well, I’m surprised. No. 4, “My latest food crushes,” won the “Choose your own adventure” race. No. 7, “Why my children will be scarred for life,” and No. 8, “The time I was sentenced to church,” tied for second.

As you wish.

I can still attack a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, but I’ve moved on.

Warning: The following items are not very healthy, especially if you eat them in large, ridiculous quantities (not that I would do that, of course), but they are delicious!

  1. Dark chocolate with sea salt from L’Artigiano by way of Wright Square Café in Savannah. Expensive as hell, but totally worth it.
  2. Gianduja hazelnut chocolate paste from Leone by way of Eataly in New York. It’s like Nutella’s snooty, cultured older brother. I feel like carrying a tube around in my purse and squeezing it into my mouth at stoplights.
  3. Fage Greek yogurt with fruit. My favorite is the blueberry-acai. Sweet grandmother’s spatula!
  4. Kettle brand baked potato chips, salt and fresh ground pepper flavor. I can be full to the bloated point and still devour an entire bag.
  5. Annie Chun’s sesame seaweed snacks. I have my friend Sophia to thank for this addiction. It seems like something you shouldn’t eat — it looks like a piece of green, crumply paper — but it tastes so good!
  6. Basler Läckerli, a Swiss biscuit made with spices, honey, almonds. I’ve been to Switzerland twice, both times around Christmas, which is when these treats are popular. I found them in Bern. I would fly to Switzerland just for these things. Actually, I would even walk and swim to Switzerland for them. They are that good. 

So that’s it. All my latest nasty little snack secrets are out in the open. I feel so vulnerable. (And fat.)

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I love that WordPress lets me know how people find my blog via search engines. For example:

My posts about the annual Redneck Games, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, and rhetorical devices get the most visitors from search engines. Interesting.

I talked to Trish yesterday about following up our Redneck Games extravaganza with the annual Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup next month. She claimed she put it on her calendar. Hmmm. I suspect I’ll have to hound her into submission.

I’ve got nothing to say today about the Cheetos. I have a pantry packed with Flamin’ goodness.

I’m not sure I’ve got much left to say about rhetorical devices. And that’s a device right there. Aporia (“Uh-POHR-ee-uh”) is the act of expressing real or simulated doubt.

Another one comes to mind because some friends and I have been talking about the musical “Hair.” (It has been 10 years since we — yes, I was in it — performed it at SCAD.)

Ain’t Got No” is an example of anaphora (“Uh-NAF-er-uh”) because each line begins with the same words.

Finally (for today), dialysis refers to weighing two arguments as a choice: either/or, this/not that, no/yes, etc. For example, I had a Twitter spat with some woman in Atlanta who objected to what I said about Glenn Beck:


So, according to nautilus55, EITHER I like Glenn Beck, OR I am a liberal. No room for anything else there, I guess. And that’s a false dilemma, my friends, which is a logical fallacy. More about those some other time …


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I always ask one question of students on the first day of class. This helps me get to know them a little better, and makes it easier to start class discussions.

Today’s question was this:

Around Jan. 1, most people resolve to start or stop doing something. What is one resolution you would never make?

Think of it as a non-resolution.

Here are 10 things I thought of today that I would never (willingly) give up:

  1. Cheese (my response in the Promotional Writing class)
  2. KISS (my response in the News Writing and Editing class)
  3. Bacon (a discussion topic in the above class)
  4. My MacBook Air that facilitates my Facebook and Twitter habits
  5. My iPhone (also an enabler)
  6. Watching Will Ferrell movies
  7. Reading David Sedaris’ work
  8. Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Puffs
  9. Coffee
  10. Shrimp

And my family, of course. (I hear the collective “awww.”)

What are yours?

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‘Twas five days before Christmas when all through our house,
All creatures were stirring, except for a mouse.

In Naveen’s belly* it rested, all squeezed to a pulp.
(The boys loved watching the snake grab it and gulp.)

The children denied attempts to put them to bed —
Optimus, Bumblebee filling their heads.

And I with my chicken and Eddie with his dog
Had just settled down with some spiked eggnog

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door we flew like a flash.
In our bare feet, we looked like white trash.

Out on the driveway something made our eyes hurt:
The guy next door again wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Then what to our watering eyes did appear,
But a strange being — just whom was not clear.

What this being was bearing gave me pause:
Poorly written signs? Must be Santa Clause!

More rapid than Bob Ross, these signs he produced,
And shouted the many mistakes he deduced:

“No comma! No period! And what’s with the quotes?
A misspelling here – Just see what they wrote!”

To the step of the porch he came with his haul.
“Let’s slash away, slash away, slash away all.”

“Get me your stylebook, and Strunk and White too.
They must learn the difference between whom and who.”

Eddie looked at us and in a manner quite snide,
Said, “You two have at it, I’m going inside.”

And then in a twinkling, I fetched my Mac Air
And my iPhone as a camera to capture signs there.

As I drew closer to my mysterious guest,
I noticed something odd: He was kind of a mess.

He was dressed all in things that I write about
From snack food to rednecks – how’d he find out?

A bundle of Utz chips he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a vendor, just opening his pack.

A mask – just like Batman! His shoes? Birkenstocks!
His jeans were jacked up, Dixie flag as a top!

His mouth was covered in hot cheeto dust
And the beard of his chin was colored like rust.

The stump of a Sharpie he held tight in his yap,
To give to the kids for their skin art crap.

He had a broad face, around which headphones
Blasting some KISS – thank God — not the Stones!

He was chubby and plump – hadn’t been to the gym.
So I suggested that later I’d go there with him.

He winked with his eye, then his head he did nod,
And I knew right then he’d been reading my blog!

We spoke not a word, but went straight to our work.
“If we fix all these signs, does that make us two jerks?”

Laying his writing hand aside of his knee,
He nodded his head, and we laughed with glee!

It took us a while; we edited with passion.
Then he left – but I have loads of blog rations!

I heard him exclaim ‘fore he strode out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good write!”

* Naveen is the ball python we are snake-sitting for the break

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My friend/surrogate mother Jody came through again. And this time, it is with something I’ve never seen before:

Those, my friends, are regular-sized bags of my favorite snack food — not the snack-sized bags I’m used to seeing.

Oh my.

She said she also is on the lookout for these:

Oh my!

The bad thing is that I started my annual “eat healthy” kick this week. I’ll be limiting myself to only 13 puffs (four Weight Watchers points) every other day.

How will I survive?

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I am a lucky woman. Guess what the man below is carrying.

Loyal readers have guessed correctly, I’m sure. Yes, it is a box filled with bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Puffs.

The man is Toby, one half of the Jody and Toby team.

They are very dear friends of the family, and not just because they tracked down my favorite snack food.

My dad tried to help, but bought the crunchy version instead. (It is the thought that counts.)

I also received the following message from my friend Kelly:

All of these folks live in the Atlanta/North Georgia area where Puffs are plentiful.

Eddie thinks these kind people are enablers. Yes, that’s true. And I say, “Thank you, Enablers! Now I have Puffs aplenty.”

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(I hope my artist/designer friends will forgive me for the visual atrocity I am foisting on the world, but I this is important information.)

My Puff daddy failed me. I went back to get my fix, and all I heard were crickets chirping when I asked where my bags were.

There were none at Store No. 9 either, and the chunky, pimply, lunch-eating clerk rudely informed me they didn’t sell well and they would not be getting any more.

What’s an addict to do?

Well, put out an APB to her friends, for one.

If you see Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Puffs, please notify this authority immediately. Do not try to detain the suspect yourself. The suspect is considered flamed and delicious.

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Frito Lay is a Puff tease. Just like they did years ago, they got me hooked on the Flamin’ Hot Puffs, then took them away.

You may remember my addiction. If not, here’s my confessional.

I was down to my last bag, so I checked the “Where to Buy” section of the Frito Lay site. I was near two of the stores, so I went in. Both of them. Nothing.

Then I checked a couple more that were not as close.

Then it became an obsession. Dominic asked if we were going to keep “exploring.”

Yes, yes we were.

I finally scored two bags at Store No. 9. Crazed, I checked at two more stores on the way home. Again, nothing.

Store No. 12, the Ridhi Food Mart in Pooler, had one bag and a hookup: A manager said he would get more for me from one of their other stores.

Great. Now I have a dealer. I really do have an addiction.

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