So, the other day I went into the Dollar Store to get a gift bag,
and, since I was there and all,
I figured it was my duty to wander through the aisles.
Ended up spending $18.
What can I say?
I have no will-power.
Down the candy aisle,
(what was I doing there?)
I glanced at something that made me stop a few steps later & go back.
Double take.
Did I see that right?
Oh yeah, baby!
There is enough of my inner 12 year old boy left . . .
wait . . . I never was a boy, was I?
No matter, sometimes I think there's one in there. Hiding.
I mean really, what person-with-some-remnant-of-their-inner-child
wouldn't want these?
(Unless your inner child is a prissy, lacy girl.
Mine most definitely is not.)
I, uh, got them for my co-worker's 11 year old son.
No, really, I did.
Trouble is, I made the mistake of showing the box to BS,
whose inner 12 year old leaks out of every pore.
"I'm going to take these to Sally Sue's son."
"What? No, I want one. Let's keep them"
Sigh, like mother, like son.
Here's the thing.
My favorite speciality in my profession is wound care.
Gory, oozy, bloody wounds.
My office was full of morbid toys.
I relished that unit of instruction.
I lingered over maggot & leech therapies.
(which, by the way, have made a comeback)
I showed gross pictures.
My students laughed at me.
Some of them turned green.
Then I laughed at them.
Mwaaaahhhaahaa!
But these things fascinate me.
(I have much gorier pictures, but I'll restrain myself)
Yes, that's a real x-ray of a real hand.
So, yeah, you know I couldn't pass up a box of candy zits.
They turned out to be not-so-juicy-after-all gummies.
There was a little bit of squirty stuff in them,
but it certainly didn't burst forth like a geyser as the box wants us to believe.
Rats.
They tasted . . . well, like gummies.
Not zitty at all.
As if I'd know.
But I'm pretty sure they don't taste like corn syrup, sugar, gelatin & pectin.
Something tells me Sista G would have bought these too.
Oh, and there are some left.
Yay! Zits for breakfast.
Embrace your inner child, and don't let him/her ever get away or life would be very dull indeed.
5 comments:
Oh, yeah - I would be all over that, too! After all, I had to go back to the store after buying our friend's daughter a little black can of "silly sludge" and buy some for myself after seeing how cool and gross it was!!
Uh . . . yea . . . my 32 yo DS would probably STILL buy these to GROSE someone out! Probably ME!
Lisa C. R.
To hell with the Pixy Stix.
Now I know what to have on your bedside table next time you visit.
Ooh..Pixy Stix, along with Twizzler's were the staple food of Little League Baseball players.
Funny thing is, they gummy zits are still there, mostly uneaten. I've had better zits, uh, I mean gummies.
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