Monday, June 2, 2008

Letter Number One-Hundred Thirteen.

Dear Ruffles Potato Chips,

Each time I tear open a bag of you, I expect the first smell to be the wonderful scent of bar-be-que or fakey onions or cheese. But then I rip you open and am instantly suffocated by a rancid fart smell.

Work on that, will ya?

Love,
Kymba

P.S. Disgruntled employees Dutch Ovening my food...?

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