Pringles are crisps. Pringles are fucking crisps.
There is no way in this world, this topsy-turvy, backwards-ass, country-fried shitheap of a world that Pringles are anything other than crisps. Look at them. Go and buy some Pringles and look at them. Study them closely. Crush them into smithereens and rub the crumbs into your eyes. See that? Do you see? They're crisp crumbs; the crumbs of crisps. Pringles are crisps. They're fucking crisps.
Except, no. Apparently, no.
They're not crisps. Yeah, they're not crisps. Hold on to your dicks, fellas, because shit's about to get ridiculous.
According to a
2008 High Court ruling - yes, one of the Senior Courts of England and Wales had to get involved in this bollocks - Pringles are not crisps. Their "unnatural shape" and insufficient potato content (less than 50%) means that Pringles cannot be potato crisps, so said Mr Justice Warren.
You'd think Pringles would be proud to stand alongside its crunchy brethren and wear the badge of crisp with honour, but potato crisps are subject to VAT, something manufacturer Procter & Gamble (P&G) wanted to change. On the plus side, that means Pringles are cheaper than they would be otherwise - hard to complain about that.
On the left, Pringles. On the right, a biscuit. INDISTINGUISHABLE.
Left image: Mike Mozart. Right image: Jolly Janner.
But then P&G had to go too far. They went through the looking glass. They went to fucking Mars. They claimed that, because Pringles are made and shaped from a dough,
they are more like a cake or a biscuit.
Okay. Alright. If you want to get out of charging VAT and make Pringles cheaper for everyone, great. If, in order to do this, you need to hand in your Union of Crisps membership card, okay. We accept that. But in the name of all that's sweet and holy, don't tell us that Pringles are biscuits. Don't tell us that Pringles are biscuits. Because they're not. You know what Pringles are?
They're fucking crisps.
