Farewell, Nacho Cheesier Doritos

You taunt me! In your garish foil packaging, leering from the corner store shelves. I've sworn I'd never touch you again, but you're always calling me back. You've even changed your look, your colors, and added extra cheesiness, always trying to catch my eye. But I won't be tempted.

Sure we had some good times, but that was long ago... I remember coming home from middle school in the afternoons, plopping down in front of the television, with a huge glass of milk and a family size bag full of you, bright crispy triangles drenched in orange powder. I'd watch sitcoms and crunch away until I was glassy-eyed and dazed, my tongue coated, numb from the flavor overload.

But I'm older now, my nervous system is less resilient. I can't much through even a tiny bag of you without getting a blasting MSG headache and wrenching knife like pains in my stomach. I'm sorry--as much as I'd like to, I've changed... and I can't eat you any more.

Goodbye, Nacho Cheesier Doritos.