You’ve never seen so many corn chips. Right at this moment my aunt is lining up bag after bag on one ornately designed card table. Those bags could be yours! You clench in one hand Nacho Cheese, the other Taco. There is nothing better for a foot ball match than corn chips!
And, Steve, we have so many corn chips here that you will be so distracted with flavor that you won’t even notice my moles once. You’ll have no desire to cover your face with permanent marker dots and do your impression of me in my own home. I promise. No coworkers will be there to egg you on, so all you’ll want to do is chill on my couch with a big old bowl of corn chips and watch some foot ball match with your buddy and his aunt and step-uncle.
Do you like black corn chips, Steve? That wasn’t meant to be racist. I mean they have actual black colored chips. Science, I guess. If you come to the party, we have some here that you can try during the foot ball match. If you like them, eat a whole bunch, if you don’t that’s okay too. We got them just for you.
Imagine, Steve: You, me, my aunt and step-uncle just sitting Attachment: frasier.jpgaround, bowls of chips on our laps watching the pregame Frasier marathon. Powdered flavor circling our mouths, no one mentioning moles, and Dr. Crane and Niles getting into all sorts of silliness drinking their coffee. Sounds like the perfect start to me!
But, Steve, Frasier’s just the start. Believe it or not, we have a bowl made out of corn chip that is then filled with corn chip. I saw it online and I thought of you. Had to have it. Second I ordered it, I started getting flush with excitement. You know how I get- red, hives, you call me Bumpy Jack, everyone laughs, etc. Well it was like that, but in my own home and I had the proper medicine. That’s how thrilled I am for this corn chip bowl, Steve. It is, I kid you not, the most beautiful thing in the entire world and I am offering it to you.
Half time, Madonna, your corn chips in a corn chip bowl. Heaven? I think so, Steve. I think so. What could make this better? Oh, I don’t know, did someone rent a karaoke machine. Yes. I did. As the foot ball match is going on, we can take turns between munching on some corn chips and dueting our favorite Madonna tracks. Then, when the Gloved Goddess gets on stage, we won’t miss a word singing along.
Attachment: cornchips2.jpgSteve, I know you’ve been invited to other Foot Ball Parties, but here’s why I want you with me. Here’s what’ll get you. Here’s the kicker: Coolest Ranch, a prototype me and my step-uncle are tweaking. It’s the Dorito Frito Lays doesn’t want you to know about, Steve! Pop one of these bad boys on your tongue and feel the sting of flavor burning your buds. These aren’t my mom’s corn chips. Though we have those too!
Sure, we won’t be able to listen to the commentators or listen to the grunts of steroid users, but, Steve, when the game stops, we can learn about each other. What’s your favorite commercial, Steve? What’s mine?! We’ll find out! Together! Maybe one could even top this corn chip classic. Maybe one will be so good that we will laugh and you won’t make that face when those little hairs that curl out from my mole blow around when I breathe.
Steve, I would really appreciate it if you could come to my party this year. I understand you couldn’t come last year because you said you were sick even though I saw pictures of you at Ricky’s. This year try something new. Try something exciting. Try corn chips, with me.
Frasier starts promptly at 3:30. Please no guests or significant others.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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