Pringles Investigation

I like Pringles. Crunchy, potato-y saddle-shaped thingies. Which are technically called "crisps" even though they are marketed in the US. Why? To distinguish them from the other, inferior potato snacks? In my ever-continuing search for interesting blog topics, I decided to research this.*

And thus I stumbled upon a SERIOUS LEGAL BATTLE.

Pringles are only made of 42 percent potato ingredients, (Which begs the question of what else is in them, i.e unhealthy crap. . . but ignorance is bliss-- the question should not be begged and I'm sorry for bringing this up. I wouldn't care if they were made out of ground dead puppies and unicorn blood, they are delicious.) and are pressed out of dough, making them uniform and able to be shaped unusually. So technically a Pringle is a cake. Delicious, salty cake. This is apparently a big deal in the UK because there is a huge tax on potato products but not on cake. Strange. Also, a tomato is only a tomato if it is free from foreign smells. You're welcome.

I agree with Vita, high school in general is a medium on the scale of LifeSuck**. It's just fine for the most part, with regards to both social and actually intellectual pursuits. Shit happens, some better than others. It may be seen this way in a kind of retrospect because it's a period of time between being a little kid (widely seen as awesome. In general. Kind of. Like, unless you got raped as a kid... this doesn't prove my point so I'm ignoring it. Childhood seems to have a higher concentration of FTW moments.) and going to college and other things we imagine to be awesome, because The Future must automatically be more awesome than The Present. Wouldn't be unbearably depressing to assume that your life would not ever be any better than it is NOW? Time might end up proving that wrong, but yaaaaaayyyy optimism!

Other news: Screnzy is over and I'm a happy failure. Alex won (w00t), I started on something I plan to finish, just not in the time frame of a month. I like where the plot is going even though I don't have a definite ending per se... it could be turned into a teleplay. If only for the purpose of being shorter and able to end on a cliffhanger. I don't know if television scripts are formatted any differently, though. Alex, did you just write 100 pages, or actually reach a conclusion? Do you plan on continuing/revising? I like Reuben. Always trust a guy with knowledge of Sweden (IKEA's catalogue is better than the Bible, btw. IMPORTANT EDIT: I typed "better"-- which is subjective-- instead of "bigger"-- which is fact. Apologies to Swedes, Catholics, and proofreaders everywhere.) and fortune teller making skills, eh?*** Bob the Builder was cool. Although if memory serves he always wore a helmet (safety, kids!), leaving his claymationed locks invisible. Yes, even in the most famous of the Italian Renaissance hair-centric paintings, Bob's hair cannot be seen:

Have I creeped you out today? My work here is done.

Footnotes!

*Seriously wasn't expecting anything interesting enough for a blog, but there you go. I aim to be trivially informative.

**Like WorldSuck but for your individual life as opposed to the world.

***Yeah I just said eh. I'm not Canadian, you don't have a copyright on it. :P Did I even use that correctly? Most dialects have some kind of question-tag-at-ends-of-sentences thing, like a verbal tic. Here it's mostly, "y'know?" Even when the preceding sentence isn't a question, y'know? Also implies that the person listening does not know/is of questionable knowledge, y'know? Ahhhh, I've done it. Multiple times, y'know? Now I'm just over-proving my own point. I'll stop.