What up, dirty? Unlike Mitt Romney's MLK-inspired desire to let the dogs out, this actually qualifies as current slang of the crunk variety, and is the premise behind a very un-Seattle line of potato chips called Rap Snacks. Never heard of rap snacks? That's because, like the unintentionally fagalicious NASCAR chocolate bars Jon Kauffman wrote about earlier today, there are actually products designed exclusively for Middle Americans, making gay auto racing candy candy and chips with the mugs of 'Lil Romeo, Master P, and Young Joc on them pretty scarce 'round these parts.
The bag o' chips I just plowed through was sent to me as a belated white elephant Christmas gift by a friend who resides near Blue Ball, Ohio. I'm not sure she intended me to actually consume these flavaful 'lil buggers, because they arrived on my doorstep after their January 10 "best by" date. But fuck it, chips ain't milk, so I wolfed me down a full bag of Southern Crunk Barbeque Chips, featuring 'Lil John proteges YoungBloodz on the wrapper. They tasted fine -- I mean, hella crunk -- but God almighty, the heartburn. If I were to wash this Southern Crunk down with a 40, my chest might explode. But hey, that's what ridin' dirty's all about.