- The freaky chocolate children of Moscow
- Cadbury Offers to Pay £1 of Your Hospital Bill
- Poor Ireland gets stuck with Time Out
- Halloween in England
- UPDATE: My One-Month Plan to Seduce the Chocolate Man
- Cocaine is not Candy, Boys and Girls
- The long walk home
- Turndown Service
- A Daily, 5-Second Vacation for The Chosen
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Do you remember when you were little and dreamed that you had been given a My Little Pony ice cream parlor, a Hello Kitty doll, or a Barbie Beauty Salon? (Or a firetruck or snake or whatever if you were a guy.) You played and played and Hello Kitty asked you to be her best friend ever and the bluebirds sang on your shoulder and then…
…you woke up. No toy truck, no Hello Kitty. Nothing.
Well, this morning, while trying to stretch out my last few minutes of sleep, I dreamed I had found a full box of Fruit-tella next to my Muesli. As the sun streamed through my windows, I awoke to the exciting thought that downstairs on my sweetsie shelf my Fruit-tella were shaking in their box, waiting for me.
When I made it downstairs, lo and behold! there was indeed Fruit-tella waiting for me next to the Muesli. I grabbed it, heard the reassuring rustle of its contents, and brought little Fruit-tella to sit with me at the computer, thinking it might like to watch me write today’s blog entry. I held out for at least twenty minutes before I decided the day could not start without the taste of synthetic strawberry in my mouth.
So I opened the pink box,
stuck two fingers in,
and discovered that there was nothing inside but empty wrappers.
You can imagine the shock.
It was even worse than the time I dreamed I had received three new Barbies and awoke to discover that the only one I owned was battered, naked, and suffered from an army haircut cruel little Moko had given her the previous day.
Categories: Fruit-tella, lies