I was hesitant to go because after the Drunken Bible Charades Incident of Aught Eight I placed a self-imposed moratorium on parlor games (YOU try making people guess “You are the priest of Melchizedek” in five-inch alligator sling backs after your third caipirinha. NOT THAT EASY. Although I must say all in all the folks at the seminary were VERY understanding) so as I said…hesitant…but I make it a priority to attend any party hosted by any man with a building named after him and so I went.
So anyway, there were gummi bears there. Three pounds of gummi bears. For twelve people. That’s a quarter pound of shiny German ursine confection per person (that’s right; I said ursine. You think I don’t know stuff but I KNOW STUFF OKAY) I’m not a candy person –I prefer my junk food fatty and salty, thank you– but for some reason I thought “Hey! Gummi bears! I haven’t had those in years!” and ate a handful –by which I mean two handfuls– of them.
Friends, now I remember why –aside from my annual day-after-Easter black jellybean bender–I don’t eat candy.
To explain why I’ve devised this handy little SAT-style analogy:
PLUMCAKE : GUMMI BEARS :: VERY SMALL LAB MONKEY : 2 KILOS OF COCAINE
Y’all it was Not Good. I’m hoping to be able to blink again sometime before Saturday.
Today Miss Plumcake wants to know:
Is there a food or food group that turns you into a crazy person? If so, tell me and if there’s an embarrassing story; all the better!