Atkins Dreams

"Psst... Linus... Hey, Liiiiinus..."

"*snork* Hmm?"

"Linus... We're cold, Linus... so cold..."

"What the... Who's there?"

"We're cold, Linus... save us..."

"Um... 'kay... assuming that you aren't just a side effect of some acid I took back in '84, where are you?"

"We're in the 'fridge, Linus... we're soooo cold..."

Moments later, standing before the fridge in my jammies, I realize that no mere ingestion of psychotropics in my youth can explain how the tiny voices of M&Ms in the freezer woke me from a sound sleep.

On a related note; if you open a bag of M&Ms and eat all of them but one, what do you have? Do you have an 'M' or an 'M&M'? It seems to me that you are holding an M&M, but, they each have only one M printed on their delicious candy shells...

You know, you're right. There is just about no food in the world that couldn't be improved with the addition of a candy shell. Kids would love it; getting them to eat broccoli, cauliflower, or brussel sprouts would be a snap if they came in a rainbow of colors - kind of like veggie Skittles. It would be great for adults, too. Think how much easier it would be to eat, for example, a big sloppy hamburger. The candy shell would add flavor, a crunchy texture, and protect your clothing - "patty melt in your mouth, not in your hands!"

I couldn't agree more about their commercials, though. I mean, the last thing a giant talking M&M should do is take a gig selling his brethren on tv. It's like a talking cow hawking steaks - it's something obliquely related to canabalism, I think, with a touch of slave-trading mixed in for flavor...

Their urban myth is all bunk, too. I ate a whole bag of green ones once, and I wasn't any hornier than usual. In retrospect, however, I admit that I might not be the best test case. At any rate, I think they made it all up to distract the American people from the health dangers of red dye #2. They pulled it from the market 'cuz they found out that if you force-feed the equivalent of 6000 red M&Ms to a rat, it will die.

Of course, nowadays it's no big deal to have a bag of all one color. You can get 21 fucking colors now by the pound, delivered to your doorstep. Back in the day, if we wanted a single color bag, we had to sort them by hand - it was actually a thriving sweatshop industry. Hundreds of Mexican women and children, living in squalid conditions on huge ranches in Utah, spent 12-hour days hunched over piles of M&Ms, sorting them into huge bins marked "amarilla," "verde," "marrĂ³n"... it was terrible. Damn Mormons. Thank god for the unions - they came in and cleaned up the industry. Rest assured, today your M&Ms are sorted by costly computer-controlled scanning devices, and those Mexican families are safely unemployed again.

Now, they've got Almond M&Ms, Rainbow M&Ms, Halloween M&Ms, Mini M&Ms, fucking Ogre size M&Ms - when I was a kid, we had one damn size, 5 fucking colors, and we were happy to have 'em too! We didn't need pink and blue M&Ms to help us figure out that it was Easter. You know why? Because we could read a fucking calendar, that's why! That's what's wrong with kids today - no discipline, too much Play Station, and pastel fucking M&Ms! If they had to sort their own greens out of the pile, they'd have more respect - you know what I mean? Hey! Are you listening to me?

Oh damn; I've been sleepblogging again. I hate it when this happens. The stubbed toes, the drooling on the keys, the rambling posts that even I don't understand. Fucking diet...


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