I AM
A GROWN MAN WHO LOVES HIS CHOCOLATE
ANIMALS.
There, I said
it. And never again will I hide behind the
assumption that I am purchasing a huge block of
chocolate—in this case, fashioned into the shape
of one of the teen’s heads from High School
Musical—for a nonexistent child, if only to spare
myself the indignity and embarrassment that
enjoying an entire hollow block of cocoa Vanessa
Hudgens would cause due to my advanced age. NEVER
AGAIN, I TELL YOU. WHILE YELLING FOR
DRAMATIC EFFECT.
An example: I
brought a huge hollow Easter-egg and said bust of
chocolate to the Zellers counter for purchase
earlier today, and the young lass working the
checkout soon began to flirt with me—due to my
combined charm and deceptive
handsomeness—eventually culminating in her
curiously inquiring as to why I was doing my
Easter shopping for my children at the last
minute. I of course then answered without a shred
of reservation that I had no children,
occasionally hunted them for sport, and that this
entire bounty was for me - and me alone; and that
perhaps I would also hide it first, because that’d
be like the awesomest shit ever. Only communists
know exactly where their chocolate is.
Now,
this revelation did not register the reaction I
was expecting of , “Yes! I think that’s great!
Fuck the children. They get too much as it is.
Enjoy your chocolate you sexy stud, and maybe save
enough to melt down into a warm liquid paste in
which you can devour from my naked heaving
body.”
I may be
paraphrasing here.
But the
feeling of shame was one I did not enjoy.
I felt horrible. Her reaction of
instant disgust and subsequent ultimate
judgment ruined my day. Almost to the
point where I was unable to repeatedly masturbate
to her.
I guess what I am saying is, why
can’t a grown man eat the entire head of a teenage
idol and not be vilified and judged for it? Is
that wrong? Am I not supposed to do
that? I cannot be alone.
There has to be some
people out there, who like me, buy themselves a
plethora of children’s Easter treatery, in which
they then disgustingly consume with zero
guilt/manners/concept of human decency. I
refuse to believe that there is no one else
out there like myself; great people. People who
refuse to concede childhood carelessness,
greed and gluttony for being “responsible”,
“mature” and “not wedging their entire 200 pound
full-grown frame into the Mayor McCheese metallic
endoskeleton in the Mickie D’s play-land, just
because they can.”
So, ADMIT IT.
JOIN ME. Admit your adult love of
childish chocolate treats and the oft-innocent
endomorphic shapes they take and
vindicate my existence. Kind
of.
Thank you.
I'm
Sean.
