As you may or may not know, I am a scientist and I spend my days studying things that other people do not have the wherewithal to study. Like why Kathie Lee Gifford insists on baring her arms all the time and why the toilet paper that Trader Joe's sells is so unkind to my tushy.
My latest experiment was quite straightforward. No control group. No blind, double-blind. No triple Lutz. No electric shock therapy. It simply consisted of examining what happens to a deluded candy addict who purchases Halloween treats and, specifically, what kind of treats that candy addict buys and what that candy addict tells herself in order to justify her leap down the rabbit hole:
Oh I know what I'll do! I'll only buy candy that my household loves so no candy will go to waste!
WRONG. This is what the sneaky candy addict is really thinking:
Oh Snickers Bar--- you nutty scrumptious piece of heaven---come live with me and be my love!
Alarming and horrifying? Yes. Brutally honest journalistic science? Sort of. Regardless---do not let this happen to you.
You have the right to remain bloated,
Lieutenant Candy Corn
Junior Mint Division