Thank you for coming. I’ve asked you all here today to discuss a very important issue: Cadbury Egg Bingeing.
I was first drawn into this world in the same manner as many others—peer pressure that came about in the form of a dare. Namely: you so can’t eat more Cadbury Eggs than me.
Rather than spend the remainder of my evening in the never-to-be-won argument of could too/could not, I grabbed my car keys with a “Fine!” and headed to the local grocery store, where I stocked up on box after box of these famed eggs.
After one, my first thought was, “Mmmm, rich and creamy.”
After two, I thought, “Yeah. Rich.”
By three, I was mildly nauseated, and after six, I found myself groaning on the bathroom floor, flushed cheek against the cold tile in a last ditch attempt to keep the waves of sickly sweet sugar I had recently eaten in my stomach.
Mothers: Speak with your children about the dangers inherent in Cadbury Egg Binging. Assure them that the fleeting glory that comes from beating the boy formerly known as the human tapeworm is far out weighted by the pain that is sure to follow.
Immortality cannot be found in the bottom of a chocolate egg.
Small, sugar-coma induced question: What, exactly, is the point of Rhode Island?