Breaking the Chip Addiction

I'm Ken and I'm a potato chip addict. (Hi, Ken)

I've been hooked on the thin-cut, deep fried or baked, salted and flavored strips of spud goodness for years. If it's crunching, I'm munching. While most guys my age are still looking to get laid, I'm looking to get Lays. Fritos? Neato!

I've done 'em all. Doritos, Ruffles, Pringles, Cheetos. I've tried sloppy joe flavored chips, Tositos with a hint o' lime, and baby back rib tasting things in addition to the standard sour cream and onions and cheddar chips. I've woken on the couch before, sweeping Cool Ranch chip powder off my shirt like Scarface's Tony Montana brushing cocaine off his clothing.

Yes, it's bad. I had thought about entering a 12-chip program, but I'd relapse quicker than Guns N' Roses' Steven Adler on a Dr. Drew Celebrity Rehab show.

A few months ago, I wrote here about the snacking potentials while playing the 1942 APBA baseball replay games I'm doing. You roll games, you eat junk food. It's part of the game. Eating treats while rolling the games is as American as, well, apple pie, to continue the food metaphor.

But, I may have come across a chip flavor that could end my addiction. Call it the methadone for a heroin addict, if you want.

The other day I picked up a bag of chicken and waffle flavored potato chips. I'm not making this up. It's really a flavor and it's really gross. I could have gotten better taste and nutrition from the leaky paper bag I saw in the parking lot of the grocery store where I found the chips. I'm not sure what was in the bag, but I bet our local police department's forensic unit would have a field day with it. Do rotting bananas emit blue ooze? I digress.

It's an odd concept, jamming chicken with waffles. I like both foods. Separately. I live in the south, so chicken is a staple. Waffles? Well, who doesn't like waffles? But putting them together in a crunchy presentation is just weird. I like popcorn and spinach, but I'm not eating popcorn-flavored spinach.

I ate a few of these chips and blanched. Satan's panty shields would have tasted better and they wouldn't be as dusty. And here's where I cross the line with too much information, I'm sure, but I hiccuped a day later and still tasted those sumbitches!

So, I'm swearing off chips now. And I'm hoping that I, unlike the meth addict returning to his pipe, don't find myself heading back to Aisle 1 of my grocery store where all those chips beckon. It's good for me to do this, too. I'm walking 5-10 miles a weekend with a friend in an attempt to lose my girth and potato chips are the antithesis of weight loss.

No more chicken and waffle chips while I play the APBA games. The cards won't get chippy dust on them and I'll continue, hopefully, to lose a bit of weight. Steven Adler would be proud of me.