Associate Creative Director
Let me start by saying I do not eat crackers in bed. This random fact is essential to understanding why I would be so confused waking up to a bed covered in goddamn tiny cracker pieces. As I wondered how on earth it had come to this, I heard the distinct rustling of a sleeve of Premium Plus. I crept out of my bedroom into my living room – and that’s where I saw it: the cockiest, most self-satisfied squirrel ever to shimmy up a balcony. It sat legs spread on my coffee table, mouth, hands and furry paunch full of crackers. It was so stuffed it couldn’t even run. It stared at me like, “What? You got yours.” Eventually, it heaved itself onto its side, rolled off the table, and out the open balcony door. I don’t live there anymore.