“If there’s one thing for which I have zero tolerance, it’s the smell of Lay’s potato chips. You’d have more luck waking me up by wafting the smell of those processed starch discs beneath my nose than you would with smelling salts and 100-year-old ether. Which is too bad for Lay’s potato chips, because it’s not their fault. It’s the tequila’s fault.”
– From a hilarious essay called “Letting the Chips Fall” by our longtime girl crush Sloane Crosley (seriously, have you seen her dioramas?) on the New York Times‘s not so alcohol-friendly Proof blog. If you haven’t bought her book of essays, do it now.