I see you, Cheeto bag. You don’t have to swing your dick in my face every time I walk in this fucking store. I haven’t been avoiding you because I don’t like you, Cheeto bag. I’ve been avoiding you because, well, I was just trying to space out all the Tex-Mex snacks, you know how it is, right? Don’t look at me like that, Cheeto bag. I see you there, with your new fancy pants flavor, Salsa con Queso. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. That is a rather bold attempt to try to mock two of the greatest things in the south, salsa and queso. FritoLay is from Plano, TX. They understand Tex-Mex right? There is no way you can’t be amazing, right? Cheeto bag? Fuck it, l’m taking you home. You better fucking deliver. This better not be some gas station nacho cheese flavor, I want to taste some restaurant style queso and some quality salsa. Hmm, well I just opened you, Cheeto bag. So far I’m not impressed. You look like the Chester’s Chili Cheese fries without the fry shape. What the fuck, Cheeto bag? I don’t taste any queso in these. In fact, I taste less cheese than your ancestor, the Orignal Cheeto bag. Why must you bring shame to your family, Cheeto bag? Perhaps you should learn a thing or two about delivering flavor like your cousin, Flamin’ Hot. I’m embarrassed that we hooked up. Let’s never speak of this again.