Welfare Woes: When the Doritos Run Dry

Oh no. Not the EBT card running low. How will the pantry survive without its weekly sacrifice of Doritos, Oreos, and cases of Mountain Dew Code Red? Somewhere, a tear is rolling down Chester Cheetah’s cheek.

Social media is flooded with urgent cries from self-certified economists who are shocked—shocked!—to discover their welfare payments don’t stretch as far as they used to. “How am I supposed to feed my six kids and my boyfriend who doesn’t work when they cut my SNAP benefits by $11 this month??” they cry, while texting from the latest iPhone with AirPods firmly in place.

Meanwhile, their Air Jordans haven’t even creased yet, their eyelashes are longer than their resumes, and their gold chains could probably fund an entire school lunch program.

Let’s be honest: Some of these folks treat childbirth like a competitive sport. “You pop one out, I’ll pop two.” Medicaid’s got it covered, baby. Literally. Diapers? WIC. Formula? WIC. Stroller with a Bluetooth speaker and built-in iPad holder? Somehow… also WIC?

And don’t forget the government-sponsored smorgasbord of assistance: housing programs with rent that hasn’t seen three digits since the 90s, vehicle vouchers so they can cruise to the gas station in a better car than most of us, and energy assistance that means their AC is blasting like they live inside a meat locker while the working class is over here debating whether to run the dishwasher or the lights tonight—but never both.

Add in free cell phones, deeply discounted internet (because scrolling TikTok to complain is a constitutional right now), and it’s a modern miracle they haven’t figured out how to get DoorDash covered by Section 8.

All of this generously funded by—you guessed it—the tax dollars of hardworking Americans who somehow still can’t afford a dentist, let alone designer sneakers. You know, the people waking up at 5 a.m. to scrape by with one job, two side hustles, and half a mental breakdown.

But here’s the kicker: when the government dares to tighten the faucet just a little, the outcry is instant. “How can they do this to us?!” they scream, loading their shopping cart with 12 frozen pizzas and enough soda to power a small nation.

Now, let’s get real for a moment.

There are people out there who genuinely need the help. Single moms trying to make ends meet. Families stuck in generational poverty. People with disabilities or rough circumstances. For them, these programs are lifelines, not luxury perks. They deserve compassion, support, and every ounce of assistance our country can offer.

But for the others—the ones gaming the system while hardworking folks foot the bill—maybe, just maybe, it’s time to switch from gaming consoles to job applications. Or at least stop acting like the real tragedy is having to buy off-brand soda this month.

Final Thought: If you’re mad about benefits being cut, maybe direct that energy toward finding solutions… or at least put down the Hot Cheetos while you yell about injustice from your leather interior.