Happy Tortilla Chip Day!

 



Breaking news: humans think tortilla chips were an “accidental invention” in a tortilla factory. Cute.

Let’s set the record straight. Gremlins invented tortilla chips. Obviously.

HELLO YES IT IS ME - THE TORTILLA CHIP GREMLIN

I DID NOT ASK FOR CREDIT BUT I WILL TAKE WORSHIP,  ADULATION AND OFFERINGS OF FLAMIN' HOT TORTILLAS





You think tortilla  chips were invented by a nice deli owner with a clever idea??? NO.  WRONG. False Narrative. ERRONEOUS...

 .  

You think perfectly good tortillas just happen to fall off machines, get sliced into triangles, fried to golden perfection, and turn into the ultimate snack? Please. That’s not an accident — that’s gremlin quality control.  I broke into a tortilla factory at 2:14 a.m. fueled by spite and stolen soda. The machine rejected a tortilla. I rejected societal norms and became a 

I saw that silly sad tortilla just lying there. So I did what any visionary would do.  I stole it. ME.

I cut it into triangles. (Triangles are more dramatic.  Food always tastes better cut into triangles.)
I fried it in oil I absolutely was not supposed to touch.
I added salt until it tasted like poor decisions.

I saw your floppy tortilla nonsense and said, “This won’t do.”
I added crunch. I added salt. 



I...ME... added the irresistible urge to eat the whole bag in one sitting. Over the sink.  Like a raccoon with no intention of re-thinking its life choices let alone anything else. 

I took one bite and knew I had changed history.

Next thing you know, humans are like: “Wow, what a clever accidental invention!”


I nearly burned down a factory for that crunch. I sacrificed my eyebrows for that salt balance.

I committed several light-to-moderate snack crimes for your nachos. 

By the way... Nachos? Also us. Late-night queso cravings? Us again. 

The mysterious disappearance of the last chip at parties? Definitely US.

So this National Tortilla Chip Day, as you’re double-dipping salsa like you have no shame, just remember who made it possible.  A snack so powerful it could ruin diets, friendships, and entire Super Bowl parties. When you spill salsa on your shirt and keep eating anyway, remember:

I am still out here. 

Still watching.

Still improving snacks. eight fistfuls of salt at a time.  


I am STILL legally banned from three food-processing facilities.

I regret nothing.