Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Easter Candy Kicks My Ass

It's Easter.

I'm not what you would call particularly religious (for those of you keeping track at home, I've noted myself as not "into" politics, formal wear, vegetarianism and, now, religion) so the Easter holidays don't mean a whole lot to me, other than, of course, Cadbury Eggs. It being the Easter season and all means that I can buy Cadburys openly and without shame in any of my neighborhood's candy purveyors, as opposed to the rest of the year when I have to buy them off the black market like a Ukrainian dictator purchasing plutonium.

In truth, the whole Cadbury Egg thing is a much better concept in theory than it is in actual application. I can only eat about two of those things in a given holiday season. Yes, I crave them constantly and, yes, I think they are ridiculously delicious, but after eating one I tend to be left with the desire to never, ever, under any circumstances be in the presence of sugar for the rest of my days. Eating a Cadbury egg is like having the Easter Bunny beat you senseless with a log of medium-quality chocolate, after which he attempts to drown you in a bathtub full of mucousy nougat that looks like the innards of a real egg in much the same way the Choco Taco resembles Mexican food.

Or at the very least, it feels like every single one of your pores has been filled in with caulk and your eyes aren't going to stop vibrating because a gallon and a half of sucrose has just entered your bloodstream.However, given the choice between a confectionary mugging and having to sit through a Easter Sunday church service, with all the droning on resurrections and tie-wearing that that implies... well, punch me in the mouth with all the sweetness you can muster.

Cadbury, make me your bitch.


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