Condiment Compliment

Heinz is about to erase the miseries of THE WORLD when it comes to opening packets of their ketchup. Rather than those little plastic and foil pain in my assneck baggies, the company has decided to convert to this:

This new-fangled whoozy (called the Dip & Squeeze, also a racy dance move from the '20s) allows you to either dip your chickin balls for quick, handheld, masturbatory chow, or you can squirt out your sauce via the tearable top directly onto your horse intestine sandwich. Super.

The big thing for me here is... WHY NOW?!

People have been frustrated for eons with the former packaging. It's been going on so long, it seemed to be a running practical joke on the populous.

Heinz is a company run by John Kerry's wife that owns the New England Patriots - I think. They are wealthy and established enough to fund whole presidential campaigns while still taking in a game or two of the professional sports team that THEY FUCKING RUN. Clearly, baller ketchup status.

They have a monopoly that will never be cracked. Ever. Unless there's a run of avian death flu that sweeps through their factories and kills off more than 500 people nationwide, people will never switch to Hunt's. Never. Ever. Hunt's is for broke-ass dickmunchers or people who really hate the Patriots. Only.

Again, I ask, why now?

Even if the old packets were Satan's spawn placed on this earth to really hurt the tips of your fingers after your nails have been freshly cropped, why go out of your way to innovate now when NO ONE is going to turn the other way suddenly and convert to broke-ass dickmuncher status? I know you probably had a lot of capital floating around, and your R & D department has probably been circle jerking themselves into oblivion for the last 60 years, but you really didn't have to do this.

But, since you did, I guess I owe you some thanks. I assume this will be the packet passed on to mustard, mayo, relish and the rest of your fine dippables. So, way to make our lives easier, I guess.

This definitely seems like the kind of thing I could become grumpy about as an old man, though. Something to get up in arms about. When I see kids freely squirting Heinz chipotle mayo on their holographic nebulafries, I could see myself activating my robolegs and shouting "YOU DON'T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!" and then quickly retiring to hypersleep.

Whatever.