Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Lay's Chocolate Covered Potato Chips Review

For Christmas, Lay's released a limited edition collection of gourmet-styled chocolate covered potato chips. They come in a super-fancy impenetrable plasticy/foily bag with the words "delicious" and "luscious" written in expensive-looking letters.

Ripped Open Bag of Lay's Chocolate Covered Potato Chips

I got a little too excited about these, but come on, they are chocolate covered potato chips. How awesome are chocolate covered potato chips? Very awesome. These are the things fat pimply girls' dreams are made of.

Each bag contains--hold on to your seat here--FIFTEEN chips. That's right, FIFTEEN. Fifteen whole chips for you to totally not share with your friends or neighbors or dogs, no matter how big their puppy eyes are. Those fifteen chips are precious and they should be protected with your life. After all, at $4 a bag, you just paid, like, twenty-seven cents per chip.

Inside look at a bag of Lay's Chocolate Covered Potato Chips.

Outrageous price tag or not, these twenty-seven-cent chips are not nearly as appetizing as the ones on the bags. The chip on the packages is a perfect oval with thick ridges, enveloped in a smooth layer of dark chocolate, and sprinkled with sea salt. The pile of poo that came out of the bag looked something like this:

Very ugly Lay's Chocolate Covered Potato Chip on hand.

Poo-looks and crazy prices aside, these are still pretty yummy. How could they not be? They're potato chips. Covered in chocolate. What more could a fat girl ask for? Sadly, these are only available for the holidays. Not so sadly, you can achieve the same effect by squishing some Ruffles into a tub of chocolate fudge frosting and eating it with a spoon.

P.S. If somebody out there decides to eat a bunch of potato chips and chocolate frosting while watching chick flicks and wearing jammies, hit me up. The calories don't count if I'm eating at your house.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Little Caesar's Pretzel Crust Pizza Review

When I was a kid, we had a Little Caesars pizza joint in my hometown. They closed up shop sometime during the nineties and I didn't think about them again until a couple of years ago when another one sprung up on the other side of town. That in no way gave me incentive to eat there, as my town also has access to Dominos, Papa Johns, Pizza Hut, and DiGiornos, all of which are preferable to whatever microwaved food-like substance Little Caesars is churning out these days.

Little Caesars Hot-N-Ready Pizza Boxes

That was until I heard about the pretzel crust pizza.

This sucker has a salted pretzel crust, cheese sauce, cheese, and then more cheese.

Little Caesars pretzel crust pizza without pepperoni

I like cheese.

Now, the first thing I want to whine about in reference to this pizza is the fact that it comes with pepperoni. I am a vegetarian, which means that I had to special order one without pepperoni, which confused the cashier very much, and it meant that I had to wait at Little Caesars, which I'm pretty sure no one has ever had to do, ever.

Cheese pretzel crust pizza and pepperoni pretzel crust pizza

When I got it home and opened it up, I was pleasantly surprised by all the cheesiness. And, believe it or not, the thing looked edible. Even more shocking, it actually looked like food. So I ate a piece.

Then I ate a few more pieces, because it's cheese on top of cheese on top of cheese on top of a pretzel, and that is, like, magnificence in a pie.

Little Caesars Pretzel Crust Pizza with cheese sauce

The pretzel part was...interesting. All by itself, it was pretty good. With the cheese sauce it was also pretty good. In the context of a pizza, it was weird. Never ever in my life have I eaten a slice of za and thought to myself, you know what would make this better? Pretzels.

I ended up downing half this thing and giving myself a bellyache. I'm not sure I would really recommend it, per say, but if you ever have a few friends over and you're curious about what cheesy cheesy pretzel pizza would taste like, then go for it. But get yourself a DiGiornos for backup first.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

All Thing Things I Ate During Finals Week (or, Why My Jeans Won't Button)

So, my English professor thought it would be funny to assign our class a research paper two weeks before classes ended.

My English professor has a terrible sense of humor.

Lucky me, the same day my English professor assigned us our research papers, my car died. Then the school library closed for five days for "Thanksgiving," which, from what I gather, is an antiquated holiday celebrating love, gratitude, and yams. (Conincidentally, this holiday coincides with what we in the life-leeching retail business refer to as Hell Week, during which I had the pleasure of working six days straight and getting yelled at for not having enough earbuds.) By the time I had time to research anything at all, my roommate came home from Colorado barfing like a high schooler at a frat party, and I had to procure the necessary chicken noodle soup and orange juice. (The bastard lost five pounds, too. Me? I gained seven.)

As I'm sure you can assume, all this stress led to quite a bit of comfort eating. Here's a rundown of what I ate during the last two weeks:

Half a bag of Oreos.
A McDonald's apple pie.
Three white hot chocolates.
One possibly poisonous bottle of Diet Coke.
Half a pumpkin pie.
Four boxes of macaroni and cheese.
A $1 Jimmy Johns sub.
A "Party Size" tub of humus.
Two mini bags of Cool Ranch Doritos.
Twenty-three oatmeal raisin cookies.
A LOT of Twizzlers.
And a partridge in a pear tree.

The best part of all is that I totally bombed the paper, which means I am now simultaneously looking for all possible opportunities to shove Oreos into my face AND ways to lose twenty pounds before Christmas so that at least I won't be the fat freshman failure for the annual "my, how you've grown, how is school?" holiday inquisition. If anyone happens to know of a diet that lets you eat Nutella and spray cheese for two weeks, take a 48-hour nap, and wake up with the body of a bombshell, please let me know.