My sordid imagination was profoundly disappointed to learn that "lady crisps" were not any sort of anatomical reference.
Still, good to know that MBAs are providing value to their employers.
The boss of PepsiCo – the parent company of Doritos – has suggested women need their own lady crisps, apparently so they can keep their mouths quiet and their fingers clean. Indra Nooyi told Freakonomics Radio that "young guys" will happily lick the orange dust off their fingers and guzzle down the broken bits of crisps at the …
That's how this always works.
Identify a frailty in women.
Don't bother to check if it exists in men too.
Spend ages researching if this causes the gender pay gap, campaigning for special considerations for all women because they get this thing, insisting this is why women should stay in the kitchen (delete as applicable)
Discover men get it too and you'd have known that if you spent five minutes finding out.
Waste your life.
Impostor Syndrome, Hysteria, Aversion to orange crap on your hands. The cycle repeats and repeats.
Ladies, let it be known that most of the time we men hate the same shit you do. But some of us (and some of you) don't and that's fine as well.
"I'm a man, but I hate getting that orange crap all over my fingers too."
Option 1 - I'M HAVING IT ALL: Open bag of chips and pour chips into your month. Grab a bag of chips for both hand for double enjoyment.
Option 2 - CHIPS STACK: Buy large none orange chips and use it to scoop up orange chips. The higher the stack, the better.
Option 3 - CEREAL BUT BETTER: Open bag of chips and get a spoon to scoop up chips. The bigger the spoon, the more chips you'll get.
Option 4 - CAN I HAZ CHIPS: Ask your partner to grab chips and feed it to you. Warning, your partner might finish all your chips before you get any.
Option wtf - IM A DINOSAUR: Clean the table first, then put chips on the table. Rawr your way through and pickup chips with only your mouth. Warning, this may cause unintended reactions when seen by 3rd party.
If you were (like I am, apparently) you would realise that once the doors are closed and the servants abed that 'ladies' turn into the feeding equivalent of a werewolf pack at full moon set loose in a kindergarten, plus they swear a lot (but well).
When my wife is indulging in a large bag of crisps all I can see are her the tips of her ears and her hair. Everything else is in the nose-bag, including both hands. It's quite a spectacle I can assure you, and the noise would send a velociraptor scurrying for it's mummy.
"bags of air"
Any product revision broadly in the category of food ('snack' or 'convenience") is a bit of legerdemain to raise the price -- typically by changing the portion size while keeping the price constant -- which is ultimately a scheme to increase remuneration to management for the important value they bring to the company by suggesting such revisions. There's something poetic about it all.
Not eating the bits at the bottom....is madness
Let's face it, the actual tortilla chip is merely an edible spade in this context. If they sold bags of concentrated flavouring and food dye, we could cut out the corn altogether.
Used to be the case that if you bought cheap cheesy snacks, every so often you'd find a large nugget of pure, unadulterated flavourings, salt and additives, which was bloody marvellous.
I don't get it. Doritos flavours are universally horrible - except for the lightly salted ones. But they are conveniently shaped like shovels. Hence their use for getting guacamole, sour cream and/or salsa into my mouth. Which conveniently then requires it to be washed through with some reviving liquid - preferably blended from 3 parts tequila, 2 parts lime juice and 1.8 parts triple sec.
Man goes to the doctors complaining that his penis is orange. The doctor looks at it and says 'Do you work with chemicals? the man replies 'no' 'Well' the doctor say 'Do you lift heavy equipment? again the man replies 'no'... 'Well, what do you do all day?' asks the doctor... the man replies 'Watch porn and eat wotsits'
Surely the BIC pink pen debacle, along with upteen other failed products aimed at women, that seem to have either been dreamed up in some chap's head or based on a very odd sub-set of potential customers, would ahve given Pepsico pause. But no.
But I guess suggesting that they can launch a snack that makes no sound and leaves no crumbs or dust (cheese string??) is easier than paying your female staff equal wages.
I know, crazy!!
Hmm... the pink tool set is just a pink tool set, the closest they get to saying they intend it for a woman is the rather neutral, "Parents find it an empowering gift to give children as they leave the nest. " At least the tools appear to have normal functionality for a tool set. Happy Stan destroys the function of the tool by making it a joke. Then, on page 5 of the "also bought" is:
is a 2-inch pocket knife in a fake key a concealed weapon? Would anyone be stupid enough to use it in self-defence? Hopefully, the only damage will be to whatever the owner uses to carry it.
I am seriously tempted by this tool kit. I'm going to be moving in the next week or two so no long distance mail order before then but I still might.
Also the lemur fursuit people often buy with it intrigues. I'm not usually that way inclined but lemurs are so cute.
"these 'tool kits' usually fail"
These kits are glorified security blankets; they typically include large numbers of incredibly inexpensive-to-produce fiddly bits of little value and little use in order to pump up the item count to make it seem as though there's a deal to be had. The one or two included items that ever get regular use is what the purchase price is really buying -- functionally a price gouging almost without equal. Ultimately, they're a false economy -- pink or otherwise. And, on the subject of colours: pink is a bitch to coordinate.
My dad used to dip all his tools in pink, rubber grip fluid that also made them electricly insulated from the hand that gripped them. For example a wrench that would otherwise conduct large amounts of power straight up the holder's arm instead had that path blocked by the dried, pink, rubberizing goop.
It had the added benefit of making them incredibly hard to loan out, or at least that's how it appeared to my little kid eyes as someone would come over & ask to borrow something, see all the "!PINK!" tools, & hastily backtrack away like a scalded puppy.
If I knew what the insulating goo was called I'd post it here for others to make use of, but a quick internet search should reveal it if it still exists.
I remember the stuff all too vividly because I once tried to dip one of his tools to see if it worked. Unfortunately my little kid mind at the time didn't think things through. The goo had dried & had hardened into it's permanent, iron like coating before I realized I'd dipped the *head* of the wrench instead of the handle.
*HeadDesks repeatedly in embarrassment*
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