I know a draft where earthly donuts are as sour as poison. You’d spit them out, you would!
When I went to summer camp back in the Great Depression or whenever the hell it was, we were allowed to buy a candy bar after lunch. Just one candy bar. The camp bought in bulk, so you only had a choice between two different bars on any given day. The rotation of the candy bars was completely random, so there was no pattern you could figure out where you knew in advance which candy bars were going to be offered. Oscar winners weren’t as well-protected as the identity of these candy bars.
I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that speculation over the day’s choice of candy bar consumed at least 80% of all morning conversations at the camp. The other 20%, naturally, were reserved for boobs. Games of HORSE were played before lunch with a candy bar at stake. If you won, you got yourself two candy bars, you lucky devil. But lose, and you are in HELL, forced to watch some other fuckface devour a Zagnut that could have been yours. Oh, the pain.
Once every session at camp, the counselors also took campers to the town of Eagle River, Wisconsin, where we could buy all the fucking candy we wanted and watch a movie (one year I got to see Tim Burton’s Batman, another year I got to see “Harry and the Hendersons” Raw fucking deal that year.) The sugar boners this trip caused were ungodly. Hordes of fifty to a hundred retarded young boys were unleashed on an unsuspecting town, buying every goddamn glucose-based product available. First you get the sugar, then you get the power, then you get the women.
My kid gets fucking jazzed as shit for candy now, and that’s kind of a cool thing to witness. It’s just candy. But when you’re a kid, and no one lets you drink, or drive, or feel their tits, when you’re basically not allowed to do anything, a candy bar is pretty much orgasmic. Children get a raw deal in life.
So now you get to choose. Time to ask the little child in you which candy bar you’d eat if it was your last meal and you never got to have a candy bar again. Basically, any individually wrapped candy is fine by me. Doesn’t have to be in bar form. And if you wanna pick loose candy from the Candy Kitchen or whatever the fuck knock yourself out. Discontinued bars are also fine (oh, PB Max). No fictional candy bars though. Pick one kind of candy, then wait ten picks for the next selection. My pick? Crunchie.
Mmmm, British candy bars.
I want more like this!
Follow Kissing Suzy Kolber on Facebook and get the latest NFL news and humor before everyone else.