Pita Chip Review

From the makers of propane, dehydrated water, and carbon monoxide comes a brand new tasteless, odorless, and fat-free product!

The product is Pita Chips. Originally designed by NASA (National Association of Silly Acronyms), this product is perfect for the person without the sense of smell in your life. With it’s rich creamy baked-in flavor-lacking-ness, it’s as if you’re eating a stale, unsalted saltine cracker.

And with a name like “Simply Naked” how can it not sell? I mean, what a perfect name for something going into your mouth to be digested.

And it’s owned by none other than our very own Stacy! I don’t know about you, but I believe that it is the most fitting name for a pita chip. I’m sure there was an incredibly long meeting sorting out the unfitting names for a pita chip like: Sam, Bill, George, Joe, Ned, Bertha, Spot, Lucky, and Bob, but doesn’t Stacy just fit?

And who can forget the long, drawn out court battle for the use of the name. I actually believed the representatives from new line of women’s lotions would have been awarded the name, but there must have just been a good crew on the legal team.

A message to all you stockholders and other others thinking to buy-in! I have just received a tip that Stacy is planning to release a new product expected to hit the market sometime soon. The new product is “canned bananas.” So if you have the capitol buy more stocks, or as Stacy likes to call them, “stockings.” If you don’t have the capitol, raise some.
Well, that concludes my review of the not-so-new, not-so-controversial, and not-so-widely-heard-of product. I give it 2 87/1000 of 5 stars.

If you are interested in other products with a female touch, after eating delicious pita chips clean your face with Clarissa napkins.

My Breakfast.

I had the biggest bowl of porridge today. It all started when I was deciding what to eat for breakfast. Cocoa puffs? Na, too crazy, frosted flakes?? Too snowy.

When it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Why don’t I have porridge? It was a genius idea. So, I opened a packet, added water, and put in the microwave for 45 seconds.

Those forty-five seconds seemed like hours as I cautiously watched the bowl spin round and round, guarding my prized bowl of breakfast. Then began the countdown. 10…9…8…7 I could feel my heart bounce up to my throat and back down again with every passing second, even my breathing seemed to be coordinated with the timer on the microwave.

6…5…4…3… I had stopped breathing altogether. I just couldn’t take the pressure of the wait, but somehow I forced myself to manage.

2…1…BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I was so startled it was finally over that I nearly forgot to take out my breakfast.

As I set the table, each passing moment was growing in excitement for me. Orange juice? Check. Napkin? Check. Spork? Double-check. As I slowly and carefully placed the steaming bowl of oats and meals down on the special pot holder I set up for it I could feel the aroma singeing my nose hairs and heading straight for the pleasure center of my brain.

THIS WAS GOING TO BE GOOD!

And it was, until about 2:45, when I started to regret ever eating that piping hot, scrumptious bowl of goodness.

But as I stared at my shoes in my special place with four walls, and ironically, a bowl, I decided the porridge was well worth any small discomfort.

But the question still remains, what will I have for
lunch……………………….?