The time has come to face my demons, the music and other such clichés and announce to the world my secret addiction. I have a vice for a substance so taboo, so completely bohemian and so underground that I hesitate to even mention it within these pages. It comes in many forms, has many delivery devices and when seen in its refined form is a pure as the driven snow; sugar! Unlike most addicts I am pretty particular about the grade, quality and delivery medium for my drug of choice. I can easily abstain when the dessert trolley contains cakes, cookies or croissant. To me these contain so many other impurities messing with my high. No; to me sugar is best ingested when cut with that other naughty substance – cocoa. Unlike users of Class A substances where one’s palette becomes dulled through over use and abuse, the chocolate connoisseur’s senses are heightened. We become chocolate snobs. Unfortunately or fortunately for me, moving to America was like checking into chocolate detox. Sorry America but chocolate isn’t one of the things you do well, actually, what do you do well? Ah yes, I forgot, everything; unilaterally well. Anyway, your chocolate tastes like soap. For years after I first moved stateside chocolate had to be smuggled in from the homeland by willing mules. Even then, tinged with the taste of latex, the chocolate tasted better than Hershey’s. |
A dogs life |
