Friday, April 26, 2002

I don't even think that I really like m&ms. But they're slowly permeating my consciousness.

What ghastly spell have they wrought upon me that I am unable to evade their poor-quality-chocolate crunch? One day they'll find me leaning up against the vending machine, my face pressed to the glass, leaving a cheek-spot of condensation, gazing into the abyss where once dwelled a seemingly endless supply of my m&m lifeline.

I have the same problem with Wintergreen Altoids. I used to eat them because they were gross. I'd eat one and the whole time I'd be thinking "Wow! This really isn't very good!"

But 5 minutes later, I'd be back on the Wintergreen Altoid death-ride to hell, like one of those out-of-control mine cars you see in Indiana Jones ripoffs and poorly maintained mines. I mean what's wrong with me? Next thing you know I'll be grossing people out by carrying around that strong salt licorice from Sweden or wherever the hell they make that stuff.

I think I may be insane.


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