Life truly is like a box of chocolates: It's an empty experience full of disappointing twists of fate
I just finished off the top layer of a box of Pot of Gold chocolates, a deluxe package contained in an attractive metal case. That's it for the upper deck, I thought. Time for the lower deck. My jaws slavered in anticipation as I lifted out the plastic tray in anticipation of round 2 of marachino cherries and hazelnut bouquets.
Below that was a protective corrugated paper liner. I took that out.
Below that was a second protective corrugated paper liner. I took that out too.
Below that was yet a third protective corrugated paper liner. I impatiently took that out too.
Below that, staring back at me, was the bottom of an empty metal box.
What the fuck?! You only get one layer in a box of chocolates now?
2 Comments:
"What the fuck?! You only get one layer in a box of chocolates now?"
You said this part out loud, didn't you?
Incidentally, my "word verification" word for this post was "lugobe", which has prompted a rousing chorus of "Bela Lugobe's Dead" that will not doubt stay in my head all afternoon. Thanks a lot, jerk!
You're right: I did say it out loud.
Sorry to hear about this Bela Lugobe, although I did not know him.
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