The Truth About Jay's, or Why You Should Ignore Other Chips Forever

Greetings, friends. It’s been a little bit too long, and we apologize for that. Our supply chains were briefly interrupted, making our goal of spreading the truth about how awesome we are and how we’ve been unfairly copy-pasted, and we’re getting our revenge by outflanking everyone else on the market. Take that, nerds.

The truth is very simple. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. That’s one of those things your dad tells you over and over again, but that adage has stuck around for a reason. It’s true. It applies to chips. We see other chip brands as failed attempts to “fix” what’s already been perfected, by us, and we’re not super sure why. Probably because other chip companies are run by dorks who make chips for other dorks. But we like to think of ourselves as understanding, that is to say, people often aren’t dorks on purpose. There’s a better way. We’re cool. Like, Biff from The Jets cool. Ice-T cool.

We’re here because our point still stands. That is to say, we’re still the best potato chip ever made. Crisp, salty, crunchy, and the rich texture that isn’t as flimsy as Lay’s or Pringles, or, God forbid, Utz. Gross. Have you tasted any of those things? It’s like cardboard that crushes into dust. Lay’s can’t even come up with their own ideas. Remember Lay’s Stax? We do. We’re not letting the live that one down. Not only are you missing out by going to other chips, you’re actually admitting out loud that you prefer knockoffs.

Also, we made Ok-e-Doke, which is the only non-disgusting cheesy popcorn. We understand that this is about the pride in our potato chips, too, but that still needed to be said, because they’re not paying me to not mention all of our greatest points of pride.

As a final note, the more people spread the word of our awesomeness, the more likely it is we’ll bring back the Cheezelets. No promises.

What Is Lay’s Hiding? An Objective Analysis

Over at Jay’s, we believe in doing more than being an amazing chip with classic flavors that are deeply, deeply underrated. We’re also, like, purveyors of truth, whose marketing and expansion is thwarted at every turn by idiot-savants. Our most loyal janissaries snackers are thereby forced to smuggle our chips west of the Mississippi to keep the joy alive. Our cutting edge investigators have come up with a few key points to strike at the heart of the Lay’s operation.

1) We were here first, you dolts.

We were here in 1927. They started in 1932. None of us want to hear it. It’s all poppycock. To add insult to injury, we have cultural roots attached to our brand, unlike the lame, corporate, mass-produced, asking-your-mom-for-a-dollar-at-the-pool-to-buy-them garbage.

2) Lay’s is for idiots who enjoy consuming wrapping paper.

This is irrefutable, and we’ve run multiple experiments (using taxpayer dollars sparingly) confirming this fact. We agree that it tastes like the glue and plastic sheen one would find after sampling the different wrapping paper offerings on Christmas (and in some cases, December 27th because your flights kept getting canceled, making the whole trip worthless). Anyone complaining about dumb stuff like ‘opinions’ and ‘subjectivity’ need not review the rest of our findings; your views are as worthless as Lay’s entire inventory.

3) A rather smelly Board of Trade employee who wouldn’t stop asking for our phone number on the bus was seen eating a bag of Lay’s before committing this heinously uncomfortable social interaction.

The main point says it all. He wouldn’t stop. The research team kept telling him we weren’t interested in his weird illicit parties because we had potato chip research to resume. The team concluded that it would be the last time any of them would break from their research to eat dinner unless our or competing potato chips were involved.

4) Remember when they did Lay’s Stax?

Eurgh.

5) Gallagher likely invented Lay’s.

Evidence for this is coming soon, we promise. Just trust us on this one. And more importantly, no one likes Gallagher. Even the crisp, delicious taste of Jay’s can’t soften the eyeroll that comes with watching that cretin smash a watermelon with a sledgehammer again. We’re so over it.